


Walking on water

by winterbling



Series: Ride the waves [2]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterbling/pseuds/winterbling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunggyu is too busy running from Woohyun to notice his baby brother running from him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First step

              Shit, I’m screwed. Myungsoo thought dumbly as he faced the mountain of muscle. The battle raged on either side of him, bodies falling with hollow thumps to the wooden decks and blood slippery under his booted feet. Too late to regret ignoring Sunggyu’s warning now. For the hundredth time Myungsoo cured his idiocy and total inability to avoid trouble. He just _had_ to leave the hold of the ship even after Sunggyu told – no – _commanded_ him to stay out of what he said will be a brutal fight, and he just _had_ to feel the need to prove himself even with his record of hundreds of failed earlier attempts and he just _had_ to have the worst luck in the world by smacking straight into the back of the enemy captain the exact moment he left the hold.

 

              “Fire!” Someone yelled distantly, and the floor of the ship trembled under his feet as a cannon was launched into the neighbouring pirate ship. Chaos filled his world, the sound of clashing swords and screams as familiar as a lullaby to him, a serenade of death and fury that sickened him to no end. He scrambled backwards, mind unhelpfully blank as he ducked from falling bodies and tried not to trip over the mess of ropes strewn over the floor. The pirate advanced steadily towards him, his blade balanced and poised for death.

 

              Myungsoo yelped, jumping aside to avoid a slash. His hands scrabbled desperately over his belt, looking for a weapon, anything, that could save his stupid ass. His sword, being eternally unhelpful, had flown right out of his hands and somewhere into the mess of tangled limbs before he even had time to properly wield it. The man leered unpleasantly at him, yellow teeth showing, a predatory gleam in his eyes that made Myungsoo’s skin crawl as though ants were crawling over him. “My, my,” he remarked mockingly, “What’s a pretty face like you doing on board a pirate’s ship? The crew’s whore, perhaps?”

 

              The younger ignored the insult, yanking a dagger from his boot as he backed away and held it towards the offender. Shit, he looked like an idiot waving a toy knife next to this brute of a man holding a sword almost as long as Myungsoo’s torso. He couldn’t actually blame the man for bursting into laughter, even if his pride took a hard blow. Honestly he would laugh at himself too if it hadn’t meant having to throw himself overboard to save his dignity. “Fuck you,” he snarled, eyes darting around for a strategic position that could help turn the tables. The pirate stopped laughing, the mirth not quite dying out of his face as he swung the sword leisurely at the younger. “Surrender now and I’ll fuck you back on my ship.” He offered vulgarly.

 

              Myungsoo ignored him, warily judging the distance between the blade in his hand and the man’s throat. One good throw – just like Sunggyu had taught him when he swung his arm and sent the knife plunging into the thick wood up to the hilt. That was assuming he had five chances and the knife would actually stick instead of bouncing off uselessly.

 

              He lifted his arm, positioning it like a sword lest the man figured out his intentions. The pirate hadn’t bothered to attack again, instead watching him with an amused, slightly bored expression like they weren’t neck deep in a bloody battle. Myungsoo tried not to take it too personally.

 

              Someone knocked into him and he staggered, losing his aim and falling to the side. He barely had time to notice his dagger disappearing from his grip before a familiar voice commanded, “Move, Soo.” Sunggyu stood before the other pirate, completely relaxed and unconcerned even though his head barely cleared the man’s shoulders. “Ah, the famous Kim Sunggyu.” The pirate smirked unpleasantly, sinking into a more aggressive stance.

 

              Sunggyu tilted his head in acknowledgement, smile wicked and wild. “At your service.” Without warning, a slim rapier appeared in his brother’s capable hands in a split second, flashing towards the enemy’s throat with deadly accuracy. “Get off my ship!” he yelled, already dancing into a new position. Even with his size, the enemy captain had surprisingly quick reflexes, deflecting the fatal blow by drawing his own sword up. He twisted, the sword missing his brother’s wrist by a hairbreadth and drawing a thin scarlet line across. Sunggyu chuckled, pulling his sword back and swinging a graceful arc towards the unguarded belly. Thick with muscle and encumbered by layers of clothing, the blunted blade – clearly not Sunggyu’s – failed to spill entrails out of the man’s gut. The man simply grunted and slashed hard at his brother’s sword arm, slicing almost deep enough to sever the arm before Sunggyu twisted away. Horrified, Myungsoo could only watch as his brother gasped, face crumpling with pain as his hand flew to clutch at his shoulder while the rapier fell out of his hand.

 

              Breathing heavily, Sunggyu backed towards the side of the ship, still holding onto his shoulder tightly as blood spilled out between his fingers. Oh my god, oh my god, what do I do where the hell is a sword when I need one?! Myungsoo looked around frantically, panic steadily rising to hysteria because his _brother_ never got wounded like this before. 

 

              The man advanced upon the other in what Myungsoo imagined was a triumphant grin. Leaning against the rails, shoulder of his sword arm cut open to the bone and seemingly weaponless, Sunggyu was as vulnerable as a pirate could get.

 

              Myungsoo was about two seconds from heroically flinging himself onto the outstretched sword (and hopefully dying a highly dramatic death involving a wailing Sunggyu clutching his bleeding body while the battle ceased and everyone lowered their swords and kowtowed to him respectfully) when he saw the cunning glint in his gaze.

 

              Sunggyu fell into a half crouch, swaying slightly as though weakened by the injury. The man took the bait, stalking towards him. Well, that explains a lot. Clearly this guy had no idea what he was signing up for. Because anyone who knew Kim Sunggyu would know that he fought with his soul and to the death. Plus only the insane would challenge his brother, and attack Myungsoo the suicidal. Despite the situation Myungsoo almost snorted, once again he’s playing the damsel in distress.

 

              As the pirate lifted his sword to probably decapitate Sunggyu, the man acted. He rolled forwards, slim frame easily diving through the man’s parted legs and slid across the floor before leaping up, delivering a powerful kick to the unguarded back. The man flew forwards towards the side of the ship, even as he turned Sunggyu was already drawing Myungsoo’s dagger from his belt with his good arm and hurling it towards the other.

 

              The dagger flashed in the sunlight before it buried itself into the throat, a mark of deadly accuracy. Eyes rolled in their sockets as the man succumbed to death and – oh. No heroic sacrifice then.  With surprising ease, Sunggyu lifted the man with his good hand and flung him back to his ship.

 

              Sunggyu whirled back to face the ongoing battle. Some of them had already started retreating – a crew without a captain is like a pack without an alpha, actions would start to swing towards self-survival. “Get the fuck off my ship!” he yelled, clearly sick of this mess. Grabbing a pirate, Sunggyu lifted him until his booted feet barely brushed the ground, holding him barely an inch away from his face.

 

              The pirate’s eyes widened, sword trembling uselessly in his hand in the face of Captain Kim’s fury.  “Consider yourselves lucky I’m not blowing you bastards to bits for even _daring_ to attack me.” Sunggyu hissed, throwing the pirate off and sending a shiver running up Myungsoo’s spine, his brother’s livid rage scaring him more than any pirate would.

 

              As the enemy pirates gradually retreated, (a hyperactive Dongwoo having more fun than he should with the stragglers) Sunggyu bellowed out commands while Myungsoo hesitated between helping Sunggyu and getting the crap beaten out of him or hiding and getting the sense knocked out of him. Tugging some first aid supplies from a now-rational Dongwoo – who took one look and heaved a sigh – he meekly approached his older brother, hands outstretched as a sign of surrender. Sunggyu’s eyes were flinty, expression thunderous even as he clutched his injured shoulder.

 

              “I’m not even going to ask anymore.” Sunggyu said curtly, turning away from him, “Go make yourself useful.”

 

              “But I was!” Myungsoo blurted angrily, frustration boiling up in him, both at his own incompetency and at Sunggyu’s words. The words pricked his insides painfully, he felt like some nosy kid trying to meddle in grown-up affairs. “Let me help, at least let me try, hyung!”

 

              “You _can’t_ help!” Sunggyu finally exploded, spinning around to face him. The words hit him like a punch in the gut, an unpleasant shock back to reality. His emotions rose up to his eyes, a roiling torrent that tightened his throat and solidified in his chest like a block of ice. Sunggyu must have realized that he had gone too far, because his face softened. He took a step towards Myungsoo, uncaring of his injury, his narrowed eyes relaxing to concern, scowl straightened away.

 

              Reflexively, Myungsoo took a step back, gaze dropping to the ground and darting about as he struggled to pull himself together. “Soo – ” he started, as he reached a hand out. Myungsoo almost left, almost, because in the next moment a shadow of agony passed his brother’s face before he covered it up. Wordlessly, Myungsoo took a seat next to a mast, his brother slowly sliding down next to him, deceptively casual.

 

              Myungsoo kept his expression neutral as he tugged the bloody clothes away, disinfecting the wound and starting to bandage it up tightly, the weight of Sunggyu’s thoughtful gaze pressing on him.

 

              “What’s this I see?” an arrogant voice broke the silence, a shadow looming over them. “Has the great Kim Sunggyu finally fallen?”

 

              “Fuck off, Nam,” Sunggyu deadpanned, not even bothering to look up. “And thanks for arriving unhelpfully late.”

 

              “Is that a plea for help, Kim?” Nam Woohyun stood over them for a moment longer, until Sunggyu turned to growl at him and he gracefully sank to his knees. He moved to inspect the injury, elegant fingers prodding the dressing away with infinite gentleness, his haughty features arranged into cool disinterest. “It’s deep,” he commented dispassionately, deep voice husky in the small space between them. Myungsoo shifted aside as the older pirate automatically started to bandage the wound, seemingly unaware that he was doing so. Woohyun’s gaze lifted to meet Sunggyu’s, cloudy with guarded tenderness and irrepressible worry until Myungsoo stood up and left quietly, feeling intrusive.

 

              “Again?” Woohyun raised his eyebrows, settling down beside him and taking his hand almost unconsciously. Sunggyu simply nodded, exhaling quietly. Woohyun squeezed his hand, grip warm and assuring as he continued to look at Sunggyu in the way he always did – like he could stare and stare and surrender his soul in Sunggyu’s gaze until the world toppled into the abyss of madness and death strangled the life out of him.

 

              “I spotted you about a week ago,” Sunggyu said, tearing his gaze away and hurriedly changing the subject, his heart squeezing with unease like it always did when he was confronted with the depth of the pirate’s feelings. This was a love that could consume and destroy, salvage and redeem. “Your skills are deteriorating.” Woohyun snorted, clearly not noticing the other’s discomfort as he interlaced their fingers. “I should kill off that new crew of mine, he’s useless.”

 

              “You say that about every goddamn person in the world, Woohyun.” Sunggyu remarked wryly, breathing through his nose evenly, his shoulder turning into a blazing throb of pain as the crappy painkillers wore off and distracted him again.

 

              The pirate glanced at him, face emotionless as he tugged him to his feet, arm wrapped around his waist casually. “That’s because they all are.” He tightened his hold, leaning against him as Sunggyu tottered very slightly towards his cabin. Sunggyu nodded and grinned to the crew members who passed him, occasionally stopping to clap one on the back, eyes constantly drifting to follow his little brother as he waddled around the place. The pain in his shoulder had risen to a fever-pitch agony and Sunggyu had to use every ounce of willpower not to collapse in front of everyone. Myungsoo is so getting the shit kicked out of him as soon as Sunggyu recovers.

 

              Woohyun frowned, noticing Sunggyu’s tension straightaway with the freaky telepathic shit he had. “No, Woohyun,” he gritted, pushing the other away as he tried to half-lift him like some kind of butchered pig. “My _crew_ is here.” The brunette gave him a hard look for a moment before relinquishing his grip, striding forwards to kick the door to Sunggyu’s cabin open (bastard) and mockingly salute as Sunggyu walked in as steadily as he could.

 

              Sunggyu collapsed into bed, finally allowing the pain to wreak havoc on his mind.  Distantly, he heard Woohyun shuffle over to rub his sides comfortingly, “I have a proposition.”

 

              Incredulous, the older pirate almost turned onto his back to glare at him before remembering his shoulder. “If you’re trying to suggest sex right now I swear to god I will fucking neuter you!”

 

              “Of course not!” he protested, looking genuinely hurt, “I would never – when you’re injured – how could you – ” Woohyun looked so upset that Sunggyu would have laughed if his heart wasn’t aching with the rare display of his _human-ness_. Sunggyu sat up, ignoring the flare of pain in response and squeezing the man’s forearm, his fingers brushing the soft hair that rose at his touch.

 

              Without even looking up Sunggyu knew that Woohyun’s face had probably softened into a squishy mess of tofu and he was looking at him with the revoltingly warm gaze again. He was so easy to read Sunggyu almost felt unreasonably guilty sometimes. Like when he was a kid and he stole lollipops from the younger kids just so he could watch them cry (and give them to Myungsoo so that he would smile again).

 

              “Gyu?” Sunggyu woke up from his reverie just in time to hear that stupid name. “Shit, do _not_ call me that, it makes me sound all cute and fluffy.” He scrunched his nose in distaste.

 

              Woohyun rolled his eyes, “Anyway, what do you think of sending Sungjong and Myungsoo for a little honeymoon?”

 

              “Where?” Sunggyu asked distractedly, mind already back onto the poop desk and cataloguing his casualties. The mention of his little brother jerked him to the memory of the almost-Myungsoo casualty. “Never mind, I don’t care. Myungsoo’s not going anywhere with that brat.” He started fidgeting with the sheets, crumpling them in his good hand and smoothing them out again. The pain in his shoulder pulsed insistently, a constant reminder. If he hadn’t been keeping an eye on Myungsoo, if the dead captain hadn’t been distracted by Myungsoo’s prettiness, if he had been too busy…

 

              “Let’s send them off to boot camp.” A creepily maniacal look entered his eyes, lips curling up in a familiarly sadistic fashion. “It’s time for Myungsoo to enlist anyway.” He said with a dark chuckle. Sunggyu felt a sinking feeling in his gut, if Woohyun likes the idea then it’s either crazy or dangerous, or both.

 

              “Forget it,” Sunggyu dismissed, “I don’t like Sungjong.” Woohyun raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. His fingers started drumming the bed incessantly, heartbeat uneasy and restless in his chest, knowing exactly what Woohyun was implying – an unspoken but mutually acknowledged deadline.

 

              Without thinking, he opened his mouth and spewed out the first thing that came to mind.  “Sungjong is too pretty and that annoys the shit out of me, but he’s also violent and that pisses me off. Plus,” he added as an afterthought, “He glares better than me just because he has bigger eyes. It’s an unfair advantage during our staring contests.”

                                                                                                                                

              Woohyun stared at him, obviously trying to keep up with the ridiculous word vomit of an excuse. “You can’t be fucking serious.” He finally breathes.

 

              Sunggyu focuses on Woohyun’s nose bridge, still speaking in the casual, offhand way that always riled Woohyun up when he was trying to play the mad genius and Sunggyu just didn’t want to cooperate, “If it involves Lee Sungjong then, no.”

 

              “It won’t be for long,” Woohyun ploughs on stubbornly, ignoring Sunggyu completely. Clearly someone went for anger management classes. Damn. “I need to kick Sungjong off my boat because he’s getting restless and aggressive and that equals rebellion in his book. Myungsoo needs to man up and the only one who can do that is our dear Jongie.”

 

              The older pirate jabs a finger at his face, narrowly missing Woohyun’s pointy nose as the other clicked his tongue and dodged the offending finger, “No, you deal with your kid’s teen problems, I’m not handing Myungsoo for you to use as a punching bag.”

 

              Woohyun finally stopped to look at him in exasperation, “C’mon, you haven’t even heard everything yet.” Before Sunggyu could open his mouth to argue again Woohyun cut him off, “Remember Sungyeol?”

 

              “How could I not?” the older mumbled despite himself, smiling a bit at the reminder of that crazy captain. Woohyun scowled, obviously less than pleased at his reaction. “Last I heard, Sungyeol needs new crew for his next voyage. Something about kraken eating up his men when they went looking for the golden fleece around Greece. So,” he sat back and folded his arms with a satisfied smirk, “I think we should send them.”

 

              Sunggyu didn’t even bother responding to the retarded reasoning, he lay back on his bed and yanked the blankets over his head. Ahh…his personal world of darkness where stupid people like Nam Woohyun didn’t exist and Myungsoo is still his cute little baby brother who didn’t have to grow up.

 

              Woohyun huffed in annoyance at being ignored, his voice somehow still managing to pass through Sunggyu’s ghost-proof blankets. “Fine, let me go ask Myungsoo.” The older pirate’s eyes flew open and he bolted up, shoving the blankets aside. “You wouldn’t,” he hissed, grimacing as the sudden movement jolted his shoulder.  

 

              Woohyun was already half-way to the door, he stopped in his path and turned around, a strange look passing across his handsome features before his face closed up again. “Lie down,” Woohyun said gruffly, as he pushed Sunggyu back down with a gentleness that betrayed his poker face. Sunggyu obeyed for once, leaning his head back against the pillow. “You can’t hold onto him forever,” Woohyun finally said, breaking the silence. Sunggyu tensed, pushing the thought away. His eyes flickered from side to side, wanting no more than to escape the room and leave this discussion for next time. (and the next, and the next, and the next. But Woohyun doesn’t need to know that.)

 

              “He’s as old as you and I were when we took over.” The brunette added, staring out the porthole next to the bed. “So?” Sunggyu bit back, “I don’t see him conquering a ship anytime soon.” He swallowed, feet restlessly flexing and kicking, “And for the record, neither you nor I made it here by being _nice_.” The words were bitter on his tongue, gritted out with acidic resentment and buried anger.

 

              There it was, out in the open, the ugly truth Sunggyu had been shoving into the dirty, corrupted corner of his mind he reserved for his lifelong collection of sins. His personal Pandora’s box.

 

              Sunggyu could remember his first kill almost as much as the first time he saw the _Rosalind_. It wasn’t his first battle – Sunggyu managed to avoid causing major casualties by giving the excuse that he was new – but he knew that this was the breaking point, either he makes it and becomes a full-fledged pirate, or he dies and Myungsoo is next. He remembered how the sword was slippery in his grasp, how he swung desperately – aiming to kill but not wanting to – how the pirate was just a kid like him, tattooed with scars and hardened with experience but just as scared as Sunggyu. Except that he was scared for _himself_ , Sunggyu wasn’t.

 

              He remembers how the kid’s eyes had widened, blood bubbling out of his mouth as Sunggyu’s sword drove in between his ribs, how in that millisecond Sunggyu had _wishedwishedwished_ that he could take it back, stop time, rewind, pull back his sword. But life doesn’t work the way we hope, never obliges with what we want. The kid died, bleeding out over the cold planks of the ship he was fighting for without knowing what he had fought for, and Sunggyu had stood over him, sword gripped too tightly, feeling like his soul was dying too, leaking out of his heart like the scarlet leaving the boy.

 

              Captain Yook had clapped him on the back, congratulating him even as he squeezed his shoulder with all the words he could not say. Sunggyu had held back his tears, had wanted to rage and scream that he was looking for adventure, not this. Never this. Myungsoo had stumbled out of the hold where Sunggyu had ordered him to hide, tripping over his feet as he went up to Sunggyu, innocent eyes wide with fear and concern for his big brother. (“It’ll be okay Myung,” forcing a smile from the tattered void of his heart and sealing his eyes to the horror he would unleash again and again in times to come. “You just need to get used to seeing this, hyung will take care of the rest.”)

 

              Sunggyu shook off the clinging shreds of regret and glared at Woohyun, “Myungsoo doesn’t need to do this.”

 

              Without saying anything, Woohyun climbed up the bed and wrapped his arms around his waist, “Oh Sunggyu,” he breathed against Sunggyu’s nape, lips brushing across the base of his spine, “When will you finally trust in someone else?”

             

              Sunggyu’s brow wrinkled in confusion at the confusing Typical Woohyun Behaviour. What the hell is he saying? Sunggyu doesn’t have trust issues, thank you very much. “Okay, you don’t need to decide now,” Woohyun said quickly, sensing that Sunggyu was about to kick him and his proposal out of the room. “Just…think about it. And also what’s best for Myungsoo.”

 

              “I feel like a parent trying to deal with their pubescent teen.” Sunggyu mumbled, making himself comfortable on Woohyun’s warm chest. "I'm so right, kids are horrible. Never have them."


	2. Second step

              “Are you sure about this?” Dongwoo asked, unnaturally solemn as he leaned over the rails of the ship.

 

              Myungsoo quirked his lips, “Are _you_ sure about this? Sunggyu hyung would castrate you if he finds out that you watched me leave and didn’t stop me.”

 

              Dongwoo quickly covered his eyes, “I didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything. But really,” Dongwoo lowered his hands momentarily to gaze at the younger seriously, “Take care of yourself and come back. For Sunggyu’s sake. And also mine.” He added quickly.

 

              Woohyun, obviously bored by the conversation and pissy at having to leave his Sunggyu so quickly, snapped, “If you two are done with your girly goodbyes we can go. The sooner I throw you and Sungjong off the better.”

 

              The first mate glowered at the brunette. “Myungsoo’s your ticket to come back to Gyu so you better not lose him.”

 

              The other sneered at him, “You worry about how you’re going to explain this to your captain, because you’re the one in his line of sight.”

 

              Dongwoo’s eyes narrowed in challenge and Myungsoo hurriedly cut into the rising tension. “Let’s go, Sunggyu hyung would be up soon to check on the ship. Bye…Dongwoo.” He tried to summon a smile at the elder’s distraught expression, pushing away the ominous feeling of a permanent farewell stirring in his gut. Dongwoo didn’t reply, he simply saluted and leaned over the railings, watching him as they rowed further until the fog swallowed him up.

 

              “So,” Myungsoo paused awkwardly, at a loss of what to say to break the silence, “Woohyun hyung, where will you be dropping me and Sungjong off?”

 

              The brunette pirate flinched, “It’s Captain Woohyun to you,” he hissed between gritted teeth, temper abruptly sour. Clearly this was his usual temperament when Sunggyu isn’t around. “And you’ll be hanging around my ship until we reach a port that I can dump you two in.”

 

              Myungsoo immediately gave up on friendly talk, letting the splash of the waves fill the silence as he rowed until the outline of the Black Lily emerged from the shadows of the night. Woohyun carefully manoeuvred their tiny transport around the hull of the ship, trying not to let the jolly boat end up as a makeshift coffin. At a sharp whistle from the captain, ropes were tossed off the side of the ship, dangling morbidly like a hangman’s noose. Myungsoo felt a squirm of unease in his belly as he reached towards the rope, unlike Woohyun who wasted no time in rigging the boat and jerking it hard twice.

             

              As the tiny boat rose alongside the huge ship, Woohyun spoke up, eyes sparkling with dark humour in the moonlight. “You’ve got approximately fifteen seconds left for a choice. It’s not too late to get off Charon’s ship, Kim.”

 

              “You’ve got approximately fifteen seconds before you get _on_ Charon’s ship, Nam.” A clear voice, unmistakably familiar with icy fury, rang out. The jolly boat cleared the last few inches to bring them almost level with the lip of the ship and with Sungjong, sending a weird jolt clenching in his chest. A shining blade was held against the rope – which Myungsoo belatedly realized was pathetically flimsy against the sword – looking for all the world like an extension of his arm.

 

              Woohyun was grinning in wicked delight, none of the slowly rising anxiety in Myungsoo present in him. “Took you long enough to figure out, _Jongie_.”

 

              The said pirate’s eyes narrowed, “That’s five seconds.” The blade dug into the rope, causing the boat to shudder and sway as though fearing the severing of its lifeline too. Woohyun, that asshole, didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the threat to their lives. Myungsoo was half-considering the insane leap from the boat to the deck of the ship, though a pissed off Sungjong wasn’t that much better than a perpetually insane Woohyun. That was assuming the boat didn’t tip over and dump them both in the dark waters, and that Myungsoo didn’t accidentally bite his tongue and commit unintentional suicide while frantically thrashing his body across the yard of empty air.

 

              “Don’t,” Woohyun’s voice was warning, as though realizing what he was planning. Myungsoo threw him a nasty look, feeling all the more mutinous. Sungjong’s gaze switched to him, still glinting dangerously but noticing Myungsoo for the first time. Woohyun took advantage of the split second distraction to throw his hat straight at Sungjong’s face, earning an angry yell as he stumbled back in surprise and a few moments to toss the rope in the boat to the side of the ship, pulling them close enough to jump.

 

              Sungjong ripped the hat away from his face, snarling and swinging his sword towards the rope holding them in the air. Woohyun, that _asshole_ , was already gathering his legs under him and leaping for the railings like the goddamn toad that he is. With only a split second left, Myungsoo wildly jumped after the captain, feeling a brief moment of triumph when his fingers closed around the slick – shit too slippery wood before he started his humliating fall from grace into the churning waters below.

 

              Woohyun’s flailing knee smacked into Myungsoo’s nose as he fell and he desperately clamped his hands around the older’s leg. There was a stomach-dropping jerk downwards as Woohyun’s grip faltered with the sudden weight, a string of colourful curses leaving his mouth describing Myungsoo’s physical inability in vivid detail. Myungsoo continued to koala hug the leg, attempting to climb the human body rope until Woohyun yelled and tried to shake him off, at which he safely decided that holding on was still the best option.

 

              “Get off me!” Woohyun bellowed, veins in his hands prominent as he clung onto the rails for dear life, “How the fuck do you expect me to climb up like this?!”

 

              “How the fuck do you expect me to let go?” Myungsoo shrieked back at an impressively high pitch, even for himself. “It's not like your stupid cape can help me fly!” Sungjong was staring down at them disdainfully, clearly judging the shit out of their extremely embarrassing position. His long fingers were playing with the hilt of his sword, clearly trying to decide whether it was worth it to kill Myungsoo together with Woohyun. He suddenly dropped to his knees, wordlessly stretching his hand between the bars towards Myungsoo.

 

              “Hurry up,” he demanded impatiently, shaking his elegant, long-fingered hand towards him. Myungsoo shook his head stubbornly, continuing his impersonation of a koala by determinedly swinging his legs up to wrap around the other’s limb. “Just grab his hand, Kim!” Woohyun snapped exasperatedly, unsurprisingly running out of patience. Myungsoo gave them both the evil eye, deeply suspicious of both his current and soon-to-be benefactor.

 

              “I’ll fall if I let go.” Myungsoo insisted, shifting himself on Woohyun’s (definitely hurting and ready to tear) leg, preparing to set up camp for the rest of his life. Maybe Sungjong will give up and leave them to rot and Myungsoo will have to resort to cannibalism to stay alive. Eyeing the juicy thigh squished against his face, he leaned forwards and took an experimental bite. “Ow! What the fu – do that again and I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

 

              Or Woohyun will shove his boot into Myungsoo’s face and kick him off when he gets annoyed enough.

 

              Sungjong looked like he was seriously regretting his momentary generosity. Before he could do something unfortunate like cutting off Woohyun’s fingers and drowning them both Myungsoo hurriedly seized the pale hand. “That’s a good boy!” Woohyun said encouragingly like he was training a dog, “Now let go of my leg and Sungjong will pull you up.”

 

              Myungsoo hesitated, not really wanting to leave the safety of Woohyun’s leg to dangle in thin air. Something about Woohyun’s ominous facial expression told him that the leg was about three seconds from being anything but safe. Without giving himself time to think, Myungsoo unattached himself and grabbed the hand, feeling momentary dizzy as he swung like a pendulum in the cold air. “I’ll pull you up, climb over when you’re high enough.” Sungjong instructed him, his grip firm and unwavering in Myungsoo’s sweaty ones. The younger pirate looked like he was more than done with this entire fiasco, but his gaze on Myungsoo was steady, easing his nervousness somewhat. Sungjong grunted, leveraging himself against the bars and yanking Myungsoo high enough for him to grab the deck of the ship and clamber over.

 

              Woohyun was already there, looking uncommonly disheveled with ruffled hair and clothes askew. Myungsoo was about to make a snide remark on his amazing responsibility when the captain shot them both a poisonous glare. “You two,” he breathed, eyes bright with rage, “Better stay far away from me until Sungyeol arrives. Unless you want to be handed to him as shark bait.”

 

              His expression was such that even Sungjong shut up. “What the hell do you want to do with this anyway?” Sungjong snapped, not even looking at him. Well the peace was nice while it lasted.

 

              “Do whatever you want with him. You can do him for all I care.” Woohyun turned and left, evidently reaching the limits of his patience. Myungsoo was starting to see a recurring pattern among the crew by now. He turned to the thunderous looking pirate who had what looked almost like the faintest flush over his cheekbones. “Don’t you get any ideas – ” he started.

 

              “Thank you.” Myungsoo cut him off. Sungjong blinked in confusion, shields slipping for a moment. “For choosing not to kill me. I owe you one.” He quickly added as cool disinterest started to return to his face. The younger levelled an unreadable expression at him again, eyes gentler than they were a moment before. “Why did that jackass bring you abroad?” he asked abruptly.

 

              “I ran away from my ship to become stronger.” He replied on autopilot, completely lost with the conversation tangent. Realising the incoherency of his statement he explained, “Sunggyu hyung is too protective and even I think I’m like a mama’s boy and that made Woohyun fed up and he asked me whether I wanted to join him to stop being so pathetic.”  The look on Sungjong’s face was just as familiar as Sunggyu’s before he decided that Myungsoo wasn’t worth the headache and shooed him away. “Can we go to sleep? I’m tired.” He suppressed a yawn, trying not to look too much like a hippo.

 

              The other shook his head, glossy dark hair shining in the moonlight as the cold breeze ruffled at them. “Woohyun is right, you are pathetic.”

 

              Myungsoo stopped mid-yawn, hurt flashing through him, familiar but no less painful than all the other ones before. He lowered his arms to his sides, gaze falling away even as he vaguely registered the realization clicking in his face and the almost imperceptible flash of regret. “You can sleep in the cabin next to mine, it’s empty.” Sungjong’s voice was very slightly hesitant, like he was suddenly unsure how to navigate the conversation.

 

              He nodded mutely, following the other down a set of corridors without really caring to notice. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it would be his sense of direction. Not like his brother, who was the kind who would get lost on his own ship even if he had a map and compass. The walk was quiet, interspersed with the occasional half-hearted introductions by his temporary tour guide.

 

              They stopped in front of a door near the prow of the ship. The corridors were empty and quiet, only the constant sound of the waves splashing quietly. Either Sungjong was lucky enough to get a private cabin or everyone else was too scared of snoring too loud while he was sleeping. “Thank you for showing me the way. Goodnight.” Myungsoo said formally, going in and closing the door on the other’s uncomfortably conflicted face before he could say anything else. The cabin was sparse, no more than a simple bunk and a chest for his belongings. Myungsoo threw himself down on the bed, burrowing into the pillow and trying to suffocate himself. Hello there darkness, it’s always nice to meet you.

 

              Tomorrow. He’ll deal with it tomorrow. Now it’s time to vanish into the pillow again.

 

__________________________

 

              Dongwoo normally considers himself to be a happy-go-lucky sort of guy. He believed in letting things go their way and making the best of the situation. Which is exactly why he’s so good at what he does, because the waves and the wind are as unpredictable as life abroad the _Rosalind_. Plus he tends to land on his feet quite safely, contrary to Sunggyu’s constant belief that he would somehow lose his balance one day and topple into the whirlpool.

 

              Today, the forecast is ominous with a chance of whirlpools. Dongwoo turns his head as the crew started to awaken, a guilty shiver shaking through him when Sunggyu strode over to his perch and put his uninjured hand on his hip, scowling up at him. “Well?” he barked, voice reaching him loud and clear despite the distance.

 

              “Huh? What?” he stumbled over his words, gripping onto the mast way too tightly and suddenly regretting his choice of fortress. Maybe plunging into the water now would give him a few more hours to distract Sunggyu from the lack of Myungsoo onboard the ship.

 

              Sunggyu looked impatient, which is admittedly nothing new. “The weather, what do you think I’m asking for? My brother?”

 

              Dongwoo almost had an epileptic attack. “Ominous with a chance of whirlpools.” He replied automatically without thinking, subconsciously shifting backwards to hide behind the mast and tugging a rope over to him with half a mind to just leap off the bird’s nest. The captain shook his head, clearly dismissing him as a lost cause. “Did Woohyun leave already?” he suddenly asked, still talking as though Dongwoo was next to him rather than fifteen feet up. Sunggyu peered around for a hint of the other’s presence, disappointment showing on his face for a split second. Dongwoo mentally contorts in maniacal joy at the cuteness of it all, making a mental note to never forgive him for not telling them about Woohyun earlier. All the different ways he could have tormented Sunggyu, LOST.

 

              “I suppose so,” Dongwoo replies, cautiously climbing over the railings of the bird’s nest and sliding down, watching for any signs of danger. His built-in instincts were sending alarm bells clanging all throughout his body at the proximity to what they’re classifying as RED ALERT: UPREDICTABLE UNKNOWN DANGER. Fortunately Sunggyu was still dazed with sleep, rubbing his eyes and looking absentminded when Dongwoo landed next to him with a thump. Feeling guiltily awkward, he decides to make a run for it, turning around and dashing off before the other could say anything else.

 

              “Oh no, you don’t.” An all too familiar hand clamped down at the nape of his neck, squeezing hard enough to send numbness spreading down his spine. The sleepiness vanished without a trace, leaving behind flower wreaths for Dongwoo. “Have you seen Myungsoo?” he asked casually, as though he held his crewmates in a neck-breaking position every other day. Which he probably did, considering his temper. The little cells manning his instincts shrieked in terror and abandoned Dongwoo.

 

              “Yeah I did, he was having breakfast with the rest.” Dongwoo answers, voice high-pitched with body-numbing fear. He takes it all back, none of the ghosts have a thing on Sunggyu. _None_. “Really,” Sunggyu said, voice bored. Dongwoo knew him well enough to pinpoint the dangerous note in his tone. He squirms, trying and failing to escape the manacle around his neck. “So nice to know that Myungsoo’s finally opening up to people after half a decade.” His voice dripping sarcasm hot enough to burn. The fingers tightened around his neck abruptly, almost cracking his neck. Dongwoo let out something that sounded like a cross between a whine and a yelp, knees buckling involuntarily.

 

              “Let me ask you again,” Sunggyu dragged him back to put his mouth right next to Dongwoo’s ear, voice a venomous hiss of frigid rage. “ _Where is Myungsoo_?”

 

              He yanked desperately at the crushing fingers, irrationally wondering whether he topped in the woogyu relationship because _what the fuck_ is with his fingers? “With Woohyun,” he finally gasps, giving in to the torture, arms falling to his side as he struggled to stay upright with black spots dancing across his vision. Sunggyu shook him hard, clearly having no trouble even with one hand. “I don’t even let Myungsoo out of my sight for long. Did you honestly think that I wouldn’t notice my brother missing?” Well that explains why Myungsoo is such a pussy.

 

              Sunggyu turns him around, face barely an inch from him, his eyes flinty with the kind of consuming anger that knew of nothing else but itself. Dongwoo felt a tremble of genuine fear thrumming through him. No matter what he did, how badly he messed up or how much he annoyed the other, Sunggyu _never_ looked like this. In that second he suddenly glimpsed a frightening similarity to Woohyun. “Bring me to them.”


	3. Third step

"This is where the two of you get off, and good riddance." Woohyun said, clearly relishing the words. Myungsoo glanced out over the side of the ship doubtfully at the teeming mass thronging the port, half-wondering whether Woohyun intended to screw him over and earn a nice profit selling Myungsoo to a brothel. He wouldn't put it past him, that bastard. "I thought you were bringing us to Sungyeol."

 

              "Actually, I said that I would dump you two in a port. Let's see who's going to find you first." Woohyun laughed darkly, oblivious to the burning gaze Sungjong was sending him. "What do you mean by  _you two_?" His voice was frosty, hand resting on his hip, his recent quietness disappearing. Honestly Myungsoo was done with Woohyun and more than happy to get off the floating coffin. It wasn't that Woohyun's crew were throwing him around like a rag doll in the few weeks that he was onboard. Or that Woohyun was making life difficult by overworking him like Cinderella's wicked stepmother, cackling with evil laughter in that ridiculous cape while Myungsoo suffered heroically in noble silence. In fact it was pretty peaceful. So peaceful that by now he could draw the swirly pattern of any plank on the poop deck from memory. 

 

              Woohyun raised an eyebrow with a smirk, leaning back against a mast. "It means, you and Myungsoo. Or have you forgotten Korean during your vow of silence?" Ah, so Woohyun had noticed too. And he was starting to wonder whether roleplaying as a mast and ignoring Myungsoo was some kind of brohood thing between him and Hoya. "Where exactly are we?" He cut in hurriedly, already feeling the incoming punch and consequential brawl which would most likely end in a Myungsoo casualty. He squinted his eyes at the small town, the suffocating heat and ramshackle buildings clinging to the ragged coastline looking vaguely familiar.

 

              "Oh don't worry, you couldn't get lost in here even if you tried. Welcome," he swept his arm theatrically to encompass the island, predatory amusement in his smile, "To Tortuga."

 

              Sungjong's head snapped up, mouth half opening before closing again, eyes sharp and still narrowed on Woohyun. The captain bristled very slightly, the movement so faint that only because Myungsoo watched people so often that he would notice at all. As though feeling Myungsoo's gaze, the pirate captain flicked his gaze to him, eyes unreadable. "Now get lost and stop wasting my time."

 

              "Aren't we always?" Myungsoo muttered, picking up his faithful rucksack and heading down to the wharf. He paused, turning around to look at Sungjong uncertainly, "Are you coming?" The other man looked torn, his hand lingering on the scabbard of his sword and clearly on the verge of throwing a tantrum and attempting to spear Woohyun. Sungjong suddenly made an exasperated motion, and huffed. "Wait." He snapped at Myungsoo, spinning around and stomping off. He reappeared several minutes later and positioned himself directly in front of the smug captain, "And that goes for you too, just wait."

 

              Woohyun looked supremely unconcerned, waving his fingers at them and not even bothering to reply as he strode off, barking orders to his crew. Sungjong pushed past him, going down the gangplank and walking off without looking back. "Where do you think we could find Sungyeol?" Myungsoo asked as he hurried after him, not really expecting an answer beyond a barely civilized grunt. "Anywhere. It's not difficult to spot that baboon." He replied tersely, demolishing Myungsoo's expectations. He glanced at Myungsoo with a speculative gaze, "Nam doesn't have the balls to really lose you. He's too scared of pissing your brother off."

 

              The town, or if you could call it a town, was the sort of organised chaos that Myungsoo saw in every pirate port. Men stood around hawking their wares, eyes almost as sharp as their swords for the smallest hint of slippery fingers. Women hung around too, calling out to the passing men with high voices and painted faces. Coins and goods moved back and forth like current in a stream. Myungsoo held the rucksack closer to himself, wary of a stray knife slicing through the flimsy cloth and his things falling into a convenient hand. Sungjong cast a swift glance to the place, turning his head and raising his voice, eyes not moving from a target. "Stay here for a moment and keep an eye out for Sungyeol. I'll be back in a while." The crowd swallowed up his tall form in a moment, his glossy raven hair bobbing for a moment above the waves before sinking.

 

              Well now, too late to regret his lack of planning. Myungsoo clutched the bag to him, promptly forgetting the rest of his sentence and setting out to spot a monkey-like man. Woohyun doesn't like him so he's probably taller than him. Sunggyu hyung likes him but doesn't want me near him so he's probably insane and reckless. Woohyun doesn't like Sunggyu liking him so he must either be hotter than Woohyun, which would make him hot as hell or Sunggyu's type, which is....oh hot as hell.

 

              He shook his head, pushing through the crowd and staring at any men taller than him, ducking away from the ones who got too responsive. "Woah there, cutie. Where'ya heading off to?" A tall, admittedly good looking man cut in front of him, stepping right into his face. Myungsoo stared hard at him, pasting a mental name tag over his face. Sungyeol, Captain Sungyeol. Nope, not Sungyeol-ish enough. "Are you Sungyeol?" He asked directly.

 

              The man looked taken aback, "No, but I can be whatever you want to, baby." He grinned greasily, looking even more disgusting than Sunggyu when he picked up girls. Myungsoo wrinkled his nose, trying to step past the other. "Hey, let's get each other's names first." Not-Sungyeol said, catching his shoulders and dragging him back.

 

              Myungsoo’s temper flared, abruptly sick of constantly getting pushed around. He knocked off the guy’s grip and shoved past him, making sure to bump his shoulder into the other, _hard,_ as he left. A large hand clamped around his wrist, halting his movement. Not-Sungyeol spun him around, looking decidedly less annoying and distinctly more threatening now.

             

              “Who do you think you are, pretty boy? You sure have a lot of confidence for someone who’s alone.”  Myungsoo’s temporary courage vanished immediately, that useless thing. “I – ” he began, more than ready to throw hostility out of the window and beg for forgiveness when every cell in his body suddenly fixated on _that_.

 

              “I did not touch that, you old bugger! Stop – get your hands off me, you just want to feel up my ass don’t you?” A voice, loud and attention-grabbing and somehow whiny sounding, rose out of the crowd. A tall, lanky figure, gesticulating wildly in indignation and almost smacking into several eyes and noses stood in front of a sour-looking vendor. Myungsoo’s gaze latched onto him, Not-Sungyeol completely forgotten, because somehow or other he _knows_. “Sungyeol.” He said aloud, nodding his head, 100% convinced that _this_ was the Sungyeol he was looking for. Pushing past the slightly freaked out imitation Yeol, Myungsoo ran through the crowds towards real Yeol.

 

              Innocence apparently proven, the figure left the stall, setting off in a brisk pace that vanished too quickly to be innocent. No, come back! If he loses his target within thirty seconds of finding him Myungsoo will honestly stab himself in the eye. “Sungyeol!” he yells desperately as he squeezed past the human waves, literally running by instinct. Myungsoo runs into an alley, mentally reasoning that confrontations occur in the dark. “Sungyeol?” he said cautiously in the relative silence, hoping that his intonation would magically summon his target. Myungsoo turned – and came face to face with Sungyeol.

             

              “Sungyeol!” he exclaimed brightly for the hundredth time in several hours, feeling as though his entire day’s vocabulary had shrunk down to two syllables. The man raised an eyebrow quizzically, looking Myungsoo up and down with boredom. Myungsoo stared back, more than happy to engage in a staring contest. He was tall, taller than Myungsoo even, with almond brown hair in loose waves around a rather striking face. The kind of face that looked mismatched, features arranged in an unusual combination – round, droopy eyes, straight nose, medium lips that were exactly the same size both up and down all in a face that was long and round and rectangular all at the same time.

 

              It was an unusual face, but somehow really good-looking too. Myungsoo likes him immediately. “For someone so handsome you don’t seem very bright.” The man observed, gaze still darting up and down with the kind of look that noticed a lot more than he let on.

 

              Myungsoo nodded absentmindedly, still mentally verifying the voice. “Uh yes, I mean no.” he blurted, words filtering into his brain. “I’m looking for someone named Sungyeol, and I’ve finally found you.”

 

              The man guffawed, “Why the hell would you be looking for him, kid? Have you got a death wish? And by the way, I’m not Sungyeol so have fun playing hide and seek.” He turned and started to walk away, gangly frame swaying drunkenly like a reed.

 

              Myungsoo ran after him happily, keeping pace with the long strides easily. “Sungyeol, could you give me a minute? I came with someone named Sungjong but I left him,” he waved a hand vaguely, “There. I’ll need to get him before he gets annoyed.” Which isn’t too hard to achieve, really.

 

              “A bit late for that, don’t you think.” Was the other’s dry remark, glancing over in bemusement. “And stop calling me Sungyeol, I told you you’ve got the wrong man.”

 

              “You are Sungyeol,” Myungsoo insisted, almost tripping over a rock, distracted with this retarded conversation. His gut was telling him that Sungyeol was lying for some (probably stupid) reason, and Myungsoo always trusted his tummy. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he jerked his rucksack forward, pulling up the bottom. Darkness greeted him like an old friend through the newly made slit. “Give me back my money.” He demanded, cutting in front of Sungyeol to stop his path.

 

              “What money?” he mumbled, not slowing down at all and almost knocking Myungsoo over. Myungsoo started speed walking backwards, finding a whole new level of athleticism as he started patting the man’s pockets for his money. Sungyeol – Myungsoo was 200% sure of by now – slapped his hands away, looking aggrieved. “Why the hell is everyone so obsessed with my ass today?”

 

              “Probably because your ass is worth more than half the whores here?” He muttered back absentmindedly, running his hands up and down the other’s chest and missing the amused glance the other shot him, hands stilling suddenly. “Wait, you know Sungjong.” He accused. “You mentioned him just now.”

 

              Sungyeol’s gaze went straight from suggestive to dodgy, stepping past Myungsoo and beginning to run, all pretense abandoned. Myungsoo instinctively grabs him, limbs winding around the other like ropes with practiced ease. The pirate struggles, freeing himself just as easily as he slides out of the vice-like grip with all the consistency of a jellyfish. Okay, desperate times call for desperate magic. He takes a literal leap of faith with a faint sense of déjà vu, tackling him and climbing onto the long back. Sungyeol totters, almost falling backwards and crushing them both. “Sungjong!” he yells through a mouthful of hair, hitting a pitch high enough to scare some pigeons off a nearby roof and hoping somehow that his summoning magic would work again. He screams again, feeling like a baboon making a mating cry.

 

              His host peers up at him, or at least attempts to from the human octopus surrounding him, clearly questioning his sanity. Myungsoo would have told him that he lost it a long time ago but he was more preoccupied with getting aid before his prey escapes (again). Giving up, he yanks at a bunch of Sungyeol’s hair. When in doubt, revert to brute force. Sungyeol gave a spectacular howl, responding to Myungsoo’s mating call. “What the hell are you doing?!” he attempts to throw Myungsoo off, in full fight mode now.

 

              “Bring me to your ship or I’ll tear your scalp off.” He threatened with an additional yank, the warning coming out a lot differently from how it sounded in his mind. Sungyeol ignored him, taking off at a run with surprising speed considering his baggage. Myungsoo shrieked pathetically at the sudden movement, almost taking out a chunk of hair as he tried to stay on. Sungyeol swerved in his path, deliberately knocking into crates and corners, whacking Myungsoo in at least ten different places with each crash. He ducks down at an approaching signboard hanging from a roof and promptly bites into his lip (and Sungyeol’s head too, from the satisfyingly pained sound below him). “Stop running!” he yells, yanking onto Sungyeol’s hair for emphasis feeling like he was trying to rein in an unruly horse, “Or at least run to your ship!”

 

              Sungyeol grunted at the hair pulling but didn’t slow down, doing some kind of bucking humping thing mid-run to get the parasite off his back. “I’m not taking you anywhere near my ship you jackass!” He paused, realizing his slip up, “And even if I were Sungyeol I still wouldn’t want you. _Or_ your companion!”

 

              They burst into a bigger street, Sungyeol slowing to a stop to catch his breath, their unusual position barely noticed by the passage of people. Myungsoo cautiously relaxed himself from his tense position, feeling almost proud of the newfound use for his clinginess. Out of the crowd of faces, a familiarly irritated one stood out to him. “Sungjong!” he yelled into Sungyeol’s ear, distracted with staying on his transport, “Over here!” He automatically lifted a hand to wave the other over.

 

              And of course Sungyeol would notice that.

 

              With a sudden heave, he flung Myungsoo off his back, sending him crashing onto the dusty floor below and rolling into some guy’s legs before taking off, looking ridiculously gangly. Myungsoo scrambled to his feet, already starting to run after him when a hand seized hold of his collar, dragging him back. “Yah! Lee Sungyeol!” Sungyeol roared after the swaying bamboo. Myungsoo belatedly realized that he was the one holding him firmly like an unruly puppy. He opened his mouth, ready to politely inform Sungjong that that wasn’t going to work and maybe scream at him for making him lose his money and his prey.

 

              The figure jerked to a stop some thirty metres away, claiming the award for the biggest plot twist of the year. Sungjong glowered at his back, and when the pirate captain made no move towards them he huffed, letting go of Myungsoo and stalking towards the other. Sungyeol stayed in his position as they approached,  turning around and lifting an eyebrow at Sungjong, fixing him with an odd look. The two men stared down each down for several moments before, to Myungsoo’s immense surprise _again_ in less than five minutes, Sungjong dropped his gaze.

 

              “Uh, Sungyeol,” he started, wanting to break the irrational discomfort building in him, “This is Sungjong, the companion I was talking about.” Sungyeol didn’t shift his gaze from the other, still watching him with that look, the kind that was blank and controlled but somehow full of emotions that were too many to identify. “I know,” he replied evenly, sounding almost arrogant.

 

              Sungjong lifted his eyes to face Sungyeol fully, “Woohyun sent us both to join you on your next voyage. Will you take us as part of your new crew?” His voice was dispassionate, none of the momentary meekness present.

 

              “Can you keep up?” Sungyeol asked in return, “I don’t take on weak men.” Myungsoo would feel cheated by how easily the younger got them signed up to the crew if he hadn't seen the flash of something pass through the younger’s eyes at the statement, almost imperceptible in the briefness. But he was familiar enough with that particular emotion to recognize it. “Yes,” he answered before he knew what he was doing. But he did know that this was what he had to do, even if it was all different sorts of dangerous and dealing with the devil would have been better than agreeing to Woohyun’s proposals. That even when he could barely see past the fog and he couldn’t know which way to go, or even where to go, the one direction that will never change is the way forward. One step, and the next, and the next. Each step revealing itself as he takes it.  Because sometimes having a little bit of faith and the courage to walk into the unknown will prove to be the destination that you didn’t know you were looking for.

 

              “Yes,” he repeated, sure of himself in a way that he hardly ever was, “We will keep up.”

 

              Sungyeol nodded his head, face splitting into a grin suddenly, “Good, now I normally like my crew to be comfortable with each other. Let’s start off by having you two address me as hyung.” The captain’s gaze shifted slightly to Sungjong, as though gauging his reaction. When there was none he visibly pulled back, looking mildly disappointed.

             

              “Where’s your ship, hyung?” Sungjong gave a customary glance to the area, “And when do we depart?”

 

              They set off at a brisk pace, the captain taking the lead. “Tomorrow, you two are all the crew I need.” Myungsoo took a double take at that, because if this voyage was as dangerous as Woohyun made it out to be, a three men crew would be suicidal. “Would that be enough?” he asked, trying not to sound too unsure.

 

              “Considering that I was preparing to set out on a one man voyage, then yes.” Sungyeol threw him an amused glance, picking up on his nervousness easily enough. “Anyway my ship was ruined by the kraken so we’re using a smaller ship for now.”

 

              Small was a big understatement. Sungjong and Myungsoo stood in front of the minuscule ship, staring blankly. “A cog ship,” Sungjong said flatly, “Really. A…cog ship. For a voyage to plunder the oceans.”

 

              “The best things come in small packages,” the captain replied airily, completely unconcerned or perhaps completely blind to the inevitable death this voyage would no doubt end in. “My previous ship proved to be too conspicuous and it’s just a little treasure in one of those islands off the coast of Venezuela, nothing too ambitious.”

 

              “You don’t know where we’re going, do you.” Myungsoo shifted his torn knapsack on his aching shoulder, tempted to throw it at Sungyeol’s face and sneak back onto Woohyun’s ship. Assuming the other captain didn’t find him mid-sail and throw him into the sea.

 

              “Why do you think I have you two?” Sungyeol made a motion with his hands to join him as he went up the gangplank, “You’re the sail masters aren’t you?”

 

              Myungsoo cast a surprised look at the younger, new to his information. “Normally sail masters plan the route to a destination, not to nowhere.” Sungjong replied frostily, jumping over the ledge and landing on the deck. “But I suppose I couldn’t expect anything else from you.” He left without another word, presumably to settle into a cabin. Myungsoo almost snickered at the younger’s characteristic bite, for once not directed at him when he caught sight of Sungyeol’s expression.

 

              “Hey,” he nudged the other, wanting to break the other out from his slump, “I want my money back.” Sungyeol looked confused for a moment before rolling his eyes. He pulled out the bag of coins from his pants, ignoring Myungsoo’s scandalized face and pushed it into his chest, “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?” he muttered, “Just like that brother of yours.”

 

              “Oh hey,” Myungsoo said, peering ostentatiously past him, “Your ass is gone. There goes your worth then.” He snickered at the dumbfounded look on his captain, following after Sungjong. A boot sailed past him and hit a mast, narrowly missing his head. Myungsoo smiled to himself, more than just a little pleased with the success of his mini manipulation.

 

__________________________

 

              Sunggyu stood at the steering of the ship, as unmoving as a statue. The wind ruffled his hair, goosebumps rising over his skin at the chilly October air. A sudden ache for his little brother’s hugs rose in him, overlaying the dark fury burning in him ever since the two, no three, of them went behind his back several weeks ago. His fingers tightened on the wood, mouth thinning to a line as he contemplated exactly what he was going to do to each of them when he found them.

 

              Starting from the mastermind of this entire bullshit.

 

              “Captain, the winds are coming up from the south. We should be arriving in New Providence within a week.” Dongwoo came up behind him, uncharacteristically serious. Sunggyu gave a curt nod, not glancing at him. He would almost miss the other’s goofiness if he wasn’t still so mad with him. Sunggyu was honestly wondering whether Dongwoo was sane when he let Myungsoo go with _Woohyun_ , to join _Sungyeol,_ because that kid was barely capable of taking care of himself in the first place.

 

              “New Providence huh?” he cracked a kink out of his neck, narrowed gaze fixed on the endless blue horizon. “And you’re sure that Nam will be there?” The itch to move faster, travel further and explore more was clenching at his chest, this time worsened with the need to find Myungsoo before anything happened to him.

 

              “We were off the coast of Bahamas when Myung – uh, Nam got away. It’s the closest port so he would probably call there to drop them off.”  Sunggyu tilted his head, turning over their destination in his mind like a nervous tick. The more he thought about it the more it seemed…weird. Too tame to be the kind of shit Woohyun would do. And he was notorious for taking things to the extreme and beyond. Nam Woohyun was a brilliant captain and hunter, but subtlety wasn’t his strongest trait. And he never did anything without a reason.

 

              “I don’t think he’s there,” he thought aloud, half to himself and half to Dongwoo, his mind running in rapid jerks, struggling to find a connection. He made a frustrated groan, “He’s not there, damn it, that idiot wouldn’t stop at New Providence just because it was near.”

 

              “Sunggyu?” Dongwoo questioned, looking more and more confused with the direction of the conversation. The older ignored him, flipping through his mental map. A name slid into his vision, clicking into place smoothly and he closed his eyes, temper skyrocketing again and he had to control the urge to scream, and maybe throttle Dongwoo for real.

 

              Of course, only he would come up with something like this. Because Nam Woohyun, pirate extraordinaire, is so bloody insane and incomprehensible and dramatic and such a _girl,_ he wouldn’t just quietly disappear after setting off Sunggyu’s fuse. He would want to be around to watch the aftermath of what he started and where better to position himself than in the place where they started? That sentimental bastard.

 

              Oh god, he is going to _murder_ Woohyun.

 

              “Turn the sails,” he ordered, “We’re going to Tortuga.”


	4. Fourth step

A bowl of broth was pushed into Sungyeol’s face and he half-turned with a nod of thanks, eyes fixed ahead and hands directing their vessel. “So,” Myungsoo started, not really sure how to approach this question without setting off the time bomb in front of him and, if he was unlucky enough, the time bomb behind him. “Which way are we headed again?”

 

              The captain snapped his head around to scowl at him, “Haven’t I said that about fifty times already? We’re headed to an island somewhere around Venezuela. V-E-N-E-Z-U-A-L-A.” Sungyeol blared, shoving his face right up to Myungsoo’s and enunciating every alphabet with exaggerated precision, sending flecks of spit into his face.

 

              “For someone who can’t even spell the place right, I have doubts on whether you actually know where it is.” Sungjong spoke up from behind them, cold voice carrying over the wind easily. The youngest pirate was sitting on the deck of the ship, hunched over a stack of maps, compass in one hand and pencil in another as he tried to narrow down their course. Sungyeol narrowed his eyes but refused to rise to the bait, aggressively downing the broth in one gulp before Myungsoo could warn him, spluttering when the hot liquid hit his throat. He threw a glare at Myungsoo as though blaming him, thrusting the empty bowl back and continuing to steer the wheel. “Okay,” Myungsoo nodded, trying to calm him down somehow, “Then do you know how the island looks like?”

 

              Either Sungjong’s constant irritation was contagious or Sungyeol hated to admit that he was wrong but his annoyance surged up again, “Why do you think I have you two for?” he snapped, “We’ll just sail around the coast of Venezuela and you two can read the stars or whatever and find the place for me.”

 

              “There are hundreds of fucking islands in that place!” Sungjong stood up, maps falling off his lap, the compass and pencil suddenly looking deadly in his hands. “And we can’t read the stars to a place we don’t even know!” His face was tight with frustration, his complexion almost ashy despite the constant sun beating down on them. Myungsoo peered at him, sending out invisible tentacles with his mind to gauge what the other was feeling. With a jolt he realized that Sungjong was actually worried and, if he could make a stretch, scared even, if Myungsoo was right about the shadows in his eyes. He looked up at the sky, for a moment convinced that it was falling because fear is a human emotion and Lee Sungjong is above mortals, a deliverer of justice and destruction like one of the Greek gods Sunggyu used to tell him stories about.

 

              “It’ll stand out!” Sungyeol insisted, turning back to the wheel and not bothering to look at Sungjong, “I mean it’s a treasure island so it should look like _something_.” Myungsoo decided to kindly overlook the lack of logic in that statement, walking over to where Sungjong was standing, fists clenched at his sides and looking like he would love nothing better than to strangle the captain and crash their pathetic ship against the next school of tuna they see. He sat down amidst the mess of papers, tugging at Sungjong’s pants to get him to sit. Sungjong stood for a few more seconds, no doubt making another attempt to kill the captain with his eyes before sitting down slowly.

 

              “How’s the broth?” Myungsoo inquired, picking up a ragged map and scanning through it briefly before putting it down and picking another up. “Good,” Sungjong said without much emotion, pulling out a piece of paper from underneath the stack and continuing his sketch of their route. He hesitated for a moment before adding almost defiantly, “I liked it.”

 

              Myungsoo looked up from the map beaming, happy with the approval. Sungjong caught sight of his expression and smiled back, a small smile, just a slight lifting of shapely lips, but a smile nonetheless. It made Myungsoo irrationally happy.

 

              He looked back at the map, perusing it through once and set it together with the earlier one, picking up another one. “What are you doing?” Sungjong’s pencil was tapping against the wooden planks of the deck like a nervous tick, the sounds inaudible among the sound of the waves. “I’m looking for an anomaly,” Myungsoo replied, not ceasing in his search. “If Sungyeol is right about this treasure being on an island, I’m assuming that not many people will know about it or it would have been long gone.” A thought crossed his mind and he went back to the stack of maps that he went through earlier, checking for the author of the map, before putting it back, satisfied. At Sungjong’s puzzled expression, he explained, “I’m crossing out all the islands that these maps have common knowledge of. If there’s an island that pops up once or twice, it’ll be as good a lead we have.”

 

              Sungjong nodded slowly, absorbing what he just said, “Do you need a paper for that?” his fingers toyed with the edge of the paper in his hands. Myungsoo shook his head, concentrating on filing away the mental images and picking for differences. They sat quietly side by side, each one intent on their task. The younger seemed more distracted than before, making sounds of impatience and violently scratching out the mistakes that he made. Once or twice Myungsoo felt his stare heavy on him but he made no comment, weeks of interaction taught him better than to push for answers. He flipped a map, comparing it to an earlier one, patiently waiting for the other to make a move.

 

              “Can I see the route you drew?” Myungsoo reached out for the paper, leaning close to retrieve it without waiting for permission, focused on an image. The flimsy paper was scribbled all over with rough drawings of nearby islands, arrows denoting trade winds and potential routes, with several decisive circles around promising areas. He traced a finger through the straits of several islands, cross-referencing with the maps in his memory before tapping on an area that the other had circled. “This one looks good,” he mumbled aloud, “Only one of the maps had listed this island down and it was written by a scholar. But it doesn’t look right somehow.” He tilted his head, puzzling it over. “Hey, Yeol,” He called, turning on his butt to look at the captain.

 

              Sungyeol glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

 

              “Who did you hear about this treasure from?” he rocked back and forth on the deck of the ship, his butt starting to ache from sitting down so long, never mind their squishiness. Sungyeol cocked his head, “From an old geezer at a tavern who ranted to anyone who would listen about a treasure that would ‘fulfill our deepest desires’.” He lifted a hand to make air-quotes. From behind him Sungjong made a disbelieving scoff, “You got directions from a lunatic?”

 

              “What else did he say?” Myungsoo cut into the rising tension, a bit tired of playing mediator.

 

              Sungyeol’s eyebrows furrowed, “Loads of crazy bullshit, but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.” He paused, thinking back, “Something about a stone in the mouth of a beaver.”

 

              A what in the mouth of what? Myungsoo was prepared to bet that Sungyeol doesn’t even know what a beaver looks like. He probably just nodded along to the old man and hypnotized himself into thinking that he understood whatever he was being told. Sungyeol was still talking, reciting what the old man had said to him god knows how long ago, “He said something along the lines of a devil beaver with an engorged liver, dead by the shattered rock of Gaea, lying below the holy trinity  – ”

 

              “Wait, wait, wait hold up.” Myungsoo perked up as he recognized a place, ignoring the rest of the gibberish. “Holy trinity?”

 

              “Just what we need, stealing from the divine,” Sungjong grumbled, “Another express ticket to hell.” Myungsoo ignored their bickering, rifling through the stacks of map for the one he was searching for, talking rapidly, “I came across that name somewhere, it was in one of those really old books by a priest or something who documented the Spanish Main.” Finding what he was looking for, he held it up to the light, scanning the document with sharp eyes. “Trinity, trinity…” he muttered, “There.” He pointed to a location on the map triumphantly.

 

              Sungjong and Sungyeol crowded around him, the latter having no qualms about relinquishing control to the winds. “The holy trinity is the old name for Trinidad, a piece of land off the coast of Venezuela.” Myungsoo explained, getting more and more excited, “And in the old maps the Trinidad is right above a river delta – of course we know that it’s further than that but – doesn’t it look like a shattered rock?” he thrust the map into their faces, Sungjong taking it to examine it closer. Myungsoo feverishly shoved the mess of papers aside, careful to stop them from flying off into the ocean as he looked for another map. “Found it,” he pulled out the map, taking the map from Sungjong’s hands and placing them side by side. “Here’s a map of the rumoured location of El Dorado. It’s supposed to be a city full of riches on the banks of Parime Lacvs – that’s lake – but people have been searching for ages and no one found anything.”

 

              “Oh great, so now we’re looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

 

              “No, no!” Myungsoo fluttered his hands, impatient with the interruption. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. See, northeast to this lake,” he traced a line with his finger, “Is the river delta that I told you about. And below that,” he drew his finger down, “Is a river that leads down to this place.” He circled the area. “Doesn’t it look like the face of a beaver to you? And look,” he stabbed at a tiny, almost indistinguishable island, “A stone in the mouth of a beaver.”

 

              He kept talking, growing more and more convinced, “The lake is the liver, the beaver this weird piece of land, and the shattered rock probably means the river delta, which is right above the beaver’s head. And the stone is this island right in the middle of it!”

 

              “Holy fuck,” Sungyeol cursed, rubbing a hand over his face, “There really is a place like this, and I thought he was pulling my leg.” He grinned, oblivious to the glare they threw him at this new piece of information.

 

              “So much for being off the coast of Venezuela, huh?” Sungjong snubbed, voice not as biting as before, some of the tension drained from his face.

 

              “It’s next to Venezuela,” Sungyeol shot back, his whole countenance shining with the glee that had been missing for several weeks, “Have some imagination, God.” Sungjong rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees. Myungsoo sat back, leaning on his hands and lifting his face to the sun, feeling more at ease than he had for a long time. Finally they had an actual clue, it could be wrong but it was better than having nothing at all. And he figured it out! Him! Kim Myungsoo, hopeless at leading a pirate life and life in general, found the lead! Delirious with joy, he had an urge to jump up and dance crazily over the deck of the ship but wisely chose not to risk his luck anymore. Preoccupied with turning the previous minutes over in his mind, he almost missed what Sungjong was saying.

 

              “Hm, what?” he let his head fall to the side, eyeing Sungjong through a half-closed eye. The other was watching him steadily through his large eyes, nose pressed into his knees, looking like a medium sized and somewhat tamed panther. Myungsoo just thought he looked like a kitten. He liked cats.

 

              “I said that I’m sorry,” Sungjong mumbled, words muffled by his knees. His gaze darted down to stare fixedly at the wooden planks of the deck, clearly not used to apologizing. “I shouldn’t have called you pathetic.”

 

              Myungsoo stared at him uncomprehendingly, “When did you ever – ” he stopped short, the memory of the first night on Woohyun’s ship drifting back to him. Oh my god, had he been obsessing over this for weeks? Was this why he was so awkward and uncomfortable?

 

              “Yeah,” Sungjong looked up, meeting his eyes straight on. Looks like he spoke out loud without noticing again. “And it wasn’t the first time I said that. I owe you an apology…for judging before knowing. I shouldn’t have underestimated you and insulted you the way I had, as a pirate to a pirate.”

 

              The older pirate sat there, digesting his words and wondering what to say that wouldn’t injure his pride. “It’s alright,” he said finally, just two simple words. Myungsoo dimpled at the other, a warm glow in his chest with the acknowledgement of being a _pirate._ The younger smiled back, lips pulling up gently again, hard eyes softening around the corners.

 

              “So we’re friends now?” Myungsoo asked tentatively, holding out a hand. Sungjong looked startled, staring at the hand like a poisonous snake. He was about to drop the hand, already planning a future attempt when a cool, long-fingered grasp enveloped his. “Yeah,” Sungjong said simply, with the same soft smile. Myungsoo got up, dusting his pants and walked over to the sails, playfully ruffling the other’s hair and promptly earning himself a painful scratch.

 

              “Turn the sails down,” Sungyeol ordered, “We’ll have to go against the trade winds along Lesser Antilles and I don’t want to risk destabilizing this ship.” The sails came down easily enough, knots straightforward and simple aboard this small ship. Myungsoo was momentarily grateful for the hours he spent obsessively learning everything he could about a ship when his frustration at being useless boiled over. And, Myungsoo thought grimly as his mind made a morbid turn, if it came down to it he would know how to deal with an amputation.

 

              That night they celebrated, Sungyeol unveiling the stash of rum he brought along “for stress relief” as he puts it. Myungsoo decided not to point out that he was the reason for the crew’s stress, picking up a bottle of rum and downing it. Even the weather had turned mild, the night’s coolness and the stiff breeze a welcome respite from the burning rays of the day. They sprawled over the deck, unconsciously lying in a circle as they gazed into the endless sky above them.

 

              “It’s so pretty,” Myungsoo said aloud, carefully tipping some rum into his mouth, “And we’re all so…tiny.” He wasn’t exactly making much sense at this moment, his brain to mouth filter lifted a long time ago. But he was sober enough to register exactly what was going on, unlike Sungyeol who was steadily becoming more and more reckless with his tongue.

 

              “Pretty and tiny,” Sungyeol slurred, raising his long arms above him like he could touch the sky. He made grabby hands at them as though he could pluck a star out of the millions scattered across the velvet sky like the spilled diamonds of the gods. “You were pretty and tiny before too, Sungjong.” He cooed with a giggle, totally out of it by now. “Like a little star…among the dirt of the world.”

 

              Sungjong sat up abruptly, “I’m going to bed.” He got up and left with another word, still holding onto his bottle of rum, tottering very slightly along the way. By now Myungsoo was wide awake and more than just a little curious about the constant hostility between the two pirates.

 

              “You knew him before?” Myungsoo carefully asked, taking a sip of rum to add to the effect. Not that Sungyeol remotely cared though, he went on, the words spilling easily out of him, “Yeah,” a dry chuckle, “He’s my son.”

 

              The remains of the bottle ended up on his face, going up his nose and he spluttered and sat up, completely sober now. “He’s your what?! But you’re so,” he waved his hands vaguely, “Young.” The captain rolled an eye over to give him a derisive look, “Not literally, you idiot. Have you ever seen a kid impregnate a woman before?”

 

              Myungsoo lay back down into the puddle, the crudity lost on him. “I picked him up from the streets you see,” Sungyeol said, voice soft, almost lulling with nostalgia and memories. Or it could be the alcohol mellowing his usual sarcasm. “Fed him, clothed him, gave him a home. Have you ever wondered why he’s so good at what he does?” he waved a hand vaguely in the direction Sungjong left, “It came from me. I taught him all that.” Myungsoo took a sip of rum at the highly questionable statement, not really sure whether to believe him or not.

 

              An empty bottle rolled out of the captain’s slack fingers and he snatched up a full one, struggling to pull off the cork. It came off, and the alcohol poured into his mouth, the captain drinking in deep gulps. “A pointless existence…but he gave me something to do.” Myungsoo hoped it wasn’t meant literally. He would have no idea how to look them both in the eyes otherwise. The older man was sprawled haphazardly over the wooden planks of the deck, long limbs all over the place like he couldn’t care what to do with them anymore. Eyes, dulled with alcohol and dead with an oppressing melancholy Myungsoo had never seen before, gazed upwards at the mockingly sparkling stars.

 

              He put the bottle of rum down, not really sure what to do or say to get him out of the funk. “So you raised Sungjong?” Myungsoo tried, grabbing onto the escaping thread of conversation. This Sungyeol was completely unlike the one he was used to seeing after weeks of being stuck side by side, but he supposed that everyone, even the careless, eternally amused Sungyeol, hid demons in their souls.

 

              “Yeah,” a deep sigh, “But he wasn’t happy, that brat. He’s always been soft, the kind who would rather run than fight even when he was living off the scraps of society. So the stuff we did didn’t quite sit well with him.” Myungsoo wanted to press further but the older didn’t look like he was capable of coherent conversation anymore, pouring rum into his throat as though trying to fill himself with _something_. He pried the bottle from the loose fingers, trying to save Sungyeol from drowning himself.

 

              Sungyeol didn’t seem to register the loss, or maybe he didn’t care. He mumbled incoherently, predictably working himself into a fit and even more predictably escalating to a rant, going on and on about the stuff Sungjong said (or he said?) and describing in overly vivid detail about what he called “the final showdown” and feeling “like my parents probably did when Daeyeol walked out” and refusing to cry because “he was a man! And men do not cry like pansies”. There were so many things Myungsoo wanted to set straight with the other so he sat up, so he settled on the easiest one first.

 

              He smacked Sungyeol in the face.

 

              The captain shut up mid-rant, stunned into silence and slightly more sober now. “What was that for?” he complained, sounding whiny but not furious. That was a good sign, Myungsoo didn’t know what would happen if he was the kind who got excessively violent after he was drunk like Woohyun or his brother.

 

              “To shut you up,” Myungsoo replied, getting up to tug the older to his feet. “Let’s get to bed.” Sungyeol threw him a suggestive, half-lidded look, falling against him and latching on. “Together?” he pouted, evidently forgetting whatever had transpired in the past ten minutes. He didn’t quite know what to do with the overload of (pretty useless and not at all enlightening) information. But Sungyeol had already gone off the rail, if his incoherent mumbling were any indication, and there wasn’t a point with encouraging an unhelpful monologue if he wasn’t going to get anything out of the other. Plus they still needed their captain. Myungsoo wasn’t ready to deal with a two-men crew and hungover captain.

 

              He pretty much threw Sungyeol into his bed, the older happily going off to dreamland with a loud snore. Myungsoo sighed, leaving the cabin and making his way to his, head heavy with more than just the alcohol.

 

__________________________

 

 

              Woohyun leaned back in his chair, tossing aside the empty cup and signalling for a new jug of beer. He nursed the cold drink in his hands, eyes sharp on the entrance of the tavern with all the single-minded patience of a predator. It’ll take weeks, maybe even months, before Sunggyu strides in looking for him. That was assuming he remembered though.

 

              No matter, Woohyun has plenty of time to spare and his crew was more than happy to splurge their loot on this godforsaken town. Kicking back his feet on the table, he tilted the legs of his chair back as far as it would go, considering the positions of the players on the chessboard. If there was one thing he believed in aside from himself, it was Sungyeol’s innate ability for self-preservation. That guy was harder to kill than a cockroach, and lucky for him too considering his wild escapades. Myungsoo would grow very well under him.

 

              Sungyeol wasn't the kind to go easy on anyone, and he could even be unintentionally cruel at times, especially when he got fixated on getting something. Well, not unintentional, because he knew exactly what he was doing. But in the way that he could bypass the lines he knew were there without actually registering their presence. As though he forgot to be human sometimes. A trait that is uncomfortably familiar.

 

              Woohyun’s eyebrows dipped downwards with his mood as his thoughts swung to his lover. Sunggyu, with his fierce protectiveness and unrestrained, almost feral nature. Snapping at anyone who tried to extend a hand, never trusting anyone enough to let them close, convinced that building a bridge would only hold him down from running free. He sighed, putting down the drink. Contrary to what probably everyone he’s ever met thinks, Woohyun isn’t a cold-hearted and insane bastard, even if he fooled himself sometimes. Myungsoo was suffocating, and the only one who has the balls to do something about it without risking death was him. Nam Woohyun. The captain held back a smug chuckle.

 

              Sunggyu wouldn’t really kill him. Hopefully. He just had to keep the other away from his throat long enough to talk some sense into his thick head. But for now, he downed the rest of his drink, lounging back in his chair, he had to wait.


	5. Fifth step

It was a nice and cloudy day.

 

              To Kim Myungsoo it meant a happily cool day where he could go about his chores without wanting to torch himself if it meant escaping the heat burning through his skin like a god-sent torture. He hates the sun. Hates it even more than gravity hates him. But to a pirate it meant an unhappily anxious day peering out and hoping that a nasty storm wouldn’t follow. Myungsoo was adjusting the sails near the captain’s post, looking out at the foaming waves and hoping without much hope that they would be lucky enough to get the former. And of course luck was the antonym of his name.

 

              Sungjong had retreated to the bird’s nest as soon as the sun had left, graceful form comfortable even in the dangerous post. “Bad news,” he yelled down, telescope still pressed against an eye, “I think there’s a storm headed our way.” Myungsoo closed his eyes briefly, suppressing a curse from escaping his lips at the admittedly expected turn in their fortune. Sungyeol didn’t hold back, making a sound of frustration and letting loose a volley of colourful profanities.

 

              “How far away?” he yelled back, preparing to steer their vessel away.

 

              “Coming in from the East, we can’t escape it, it’s directed by the winds and we’re right in the middle of it.” Sungjong scrambled down, darting over to help Myungsoo turn down the rest of the sails. 

             

              “How bad is it?” Myungsoo asked with much trepidation, if it was a bad one they might as well start getting comfortable in their beds and prepare for a watery grave.

 

              “It’s not a hurricane, at least,” Sungjong replied tersely, “But we’ll need more than a bit of luck to survive this.” Myungsoo thought over it, sifting through different strategies like how Sunggyu did aboard their ship. The difference was that their ship had a lot more mass and was a hell lot more reliable during rough weather. “Wait,” he said sharply, his hands halting on the length of rope winding down the sails. “Keep them raised, let’s go with the winds.”

 

              “We can’t! The winds are coming from where we want to go, if we go with them we’ll end up further from the place.” Sungjong yanked on the ropes, lowering the sails by a notch. He pulled hard in the opposite direction, lifting the sails. “Yes, we can! If we ride the winds out we might be able to end up along the coastline and sail from there, far in enough to escape the weather and look for the entrance to the place.”

 

              “Did you not learn sailing?” The younger sounded frustrated, punctuating his words with another tug, “The wind would flip us on our asses if it gets too strong, damn it.”

 

              “Going against it means bringing this joke – ” Sungyeol made a squawk of protest, “ – up against the waves!” he argued back stubbornly, “We have a better chance of not dying this way!” he stopped dead, doubts abruptly surging up and seizing onto him like a vice. Back on the _Rosalind_ Dongwoo always taught him that on a ship, out in the ocean, you were at the complete mercy of nature. No matter how strong or powerful you were, you were barely dust motes in the face of true power. So instead of fighting, it would be better to adjust our courses according to the conditions without ever losing sight of our true destination. Wise words, but if Myungsoo was wrong they could all end up dead.

 

              Sungjong seemed to be considering his suggestion, rope lax in his hands. He groaned aloud suddenly, “Ugh, I hate doing this but, hey Captain!” he shouted, raising his voice above the sound of the gradually speeding up wind, “What do you think?”

 

              Sungyeol didn’t reply for a while, gazing fixedly ahead, brown hair whipped into a frenzy around his head. When he spoke his tone was chillingly cold and deliberate, “We’ll stay on our course. Lower the sails.” Myungsoo gaped at him, mouth ajar. He sincerely thought that the other would agree with him and tweak their route, because no one in their right mind would head straight into a storm in something as fragile as a cog ship. A _cog ship_. Was he crazy? What was he thinking when he got onto this ship? A three man crew, on a cog ship (A fucking cog ship, Myungsoo would never be able to wrap his head around this) in the goddamn ocean. But there was something in the other’s face when he said it, something a bit off that he couldn’t put his finger on. And it sent a shiver of unease through him.

 

              It was the look of someone who was ready to gamble his world.

 

              He shook his head, now was not the time to think about what kind of crazy shit was going through their schizophrenic captain’s head. The storm was getting closer, waves churning below and skies roiling above, static electricity zinging through him and sending his hair standing on end with the kind of anticipation only a storm could give. The sails went down, ropes burning into his hands in his hurry to turn them down quickly. Sungjong was darting about the place, clearing away anything that could fall on them or fall into the sea, neither of which were highly desirable. When the sails were tied up against the masts, Myungsoo hurried to fetch some ropes from the hold, tossing a length over to Sungjong and making encouraging motions. “Tie them around your torso,” he told the other, “It’ll keep you from falling overboard.”

 

              “I don’t need a rope to keep my balance,” Sungjong replied scornfully, words contradicting his actions as the rope went around his slender waist in a secure loop. “Wait,” his eyes widened and he started to cackle, “You need a rope to keep from falling off?”

 

              “Shut up,” he muttered, “I normally stay in my cabin during a storm so I didn’t get much practice.” He went over to Sungyeol, looping the rope around the other and tying the end around the wheel. Sungyeol looked down at him in surprise, “What are you doing?”

 

              “Keeping you from falling off.” Myungsoo replied seriously, jerking a few times to make sure that the knot was tight.                                                     

 

              “I don’t need a – oh god is this how you survive a storm?” Sungyeol burst into laughter, throwing his head back. How rude. “I thought only kids needed this shit!” Myungsoo glared at him, humiliated for the second time. Ugh he should have just let them both drown, ungrateful bastards.

 

              “Fine, take it off.” He started to undo the rope, preparing to send Poseidon a Sungyeol-sized sacrifice. A hand clamped around his wrist, halting his movements. He followed the length of arm upwards, meeting Sungyeol’s hooded eyes. The older gazed at him with an indecipherable look, fingers warm around his wrist. For a moment a shadow flitted through his gaze, something that made Myungsoo think that maybe the other hadn’t quite forgotten everything that he said the other night. “Leave it,” he finally said quietly.

 

              Myungsoo let go of the knot slowly, Sungyeol’s hand still gripping his wrist for another moment before releasing its hold and turning back wordlessly. Myungsoo chewed his lips uncomfortably but left, going back onto the poop deck and preparing for the incoming storm. 

 

              The storm whooped their asses of course. On the bright side the rope did prove to be handy in keeping them on board amidst the wildly bucking waves. On the much, much, bigger downside the waves had crushed in some planks in the hold and they were sinking. Myungsoo hates his life.

 

              Myungsoo huffed, cursing as the rope got caught in his feet again. He kicked them away, making sure that the plug wasn’t going to fall off before running across the hold to help Sungjong fix the gaping hole on his side. The other pirate was soaked to the bone, silky black hair plastered to his face that he kept swiping away irritably while hammering in a plank. Myungsoo grabbed the other side of the wooden plank, straightening it while slamming in a nail with a piece of broken wood he found earlier. A sudden roll of the ship sent a wave splashing in past the miserable plank holding out the worst of the water.

 

              They spluttered, coughing out salty water and working on it more frantically than before. So near the bottom of the ship, they could vaguely hear the thumps of the rudder as Sungyeol wrestled to keep them riding the crests of the waves and out of a potential whirlpool.

 

              “Are we going to die?” the unconscious question escaped his mouth before he could hold it back. It hit him then, like a punch in the face that came out of nowhere. The realisation that they actually could die, that beneath youthful hubris they were still nothing but humans, fragile and pathetic and completely insignificant in the grand scheme of the vast universe. And with it came the realisation that he could actually die alone, out here in this storm, without ever seeing his brother again.

 

              The shock of it overtook him for a moment, making him feel like he was actually out in the water, drowning among the waves. Sunggyu had always been with him, whether it was steering their ship expertly even through the worst kinds of weather, watching over him through the corner of his eyes even while he was crushing pirate enemies under his boots or just being there for him. All the time. When Myungsoo was sitting in the hold by himself, panting and choking and hating himself so much it clenched around his throat like stone, sweat barely drying on his forehead and hands clutching the blade of his sword so hard the calluses on his palms broke and bled all over the marks his boots made on the floor, Sunggyu came in and bandaged his hands and sat down next to him silently for hours. The next day he delegated captain duty to Dongwoo and made him throw knives until Myungsoo thought his arm would dislocate but the knife stuck in the cross Sunggyu drew on the mast.  

 

              His brother had held his hand for so long that he forgot what it was like to walk alone.

 

              “I am not going to die,” Sungjong snarled next to him, a vague figure in his peripheral vision. He picked up another piece of wood and slammed his hammer into it, lips pulled back from his teeth and eyes blazing. “Damn it, I refuse to die. Not here, not now, not without my accord. And I won’t let you die, not on _my_ watch.” Myungsoo followed his actions dazedly, barely aware of what he was doing. His arms were heavy and lifeless, as though the mental shock broke through the adrenaline keeping back the bone-deep exhaustion in him. “Myungsoo, Myungsoo!” the sound of his name echoed in his ear and he turned, blinking at Sungjong.

 

             The younger pirate let go of the wood and gripped his jaw with painful force, forcing him to look straight into his eyes. “We are not sinking, not if I can help it.” He spoke, voice low and grim but steady, an unshakeable determination that Myungsoo had seen for the first time years ago, that he had never really seen in anyone else. “But if you can’t hold your shit together, so god help me, I will knock your head off because you’ll be more useful that way.” The threat filtered into his mind, familiar and steadying, cutting through the cloud that had overtaken it momentarily. A decade into the future when Myungsoo is battling another storm and on the verge of giving up with the sheer futility of it all, he would look back onto this moment and grip it in both his hands, forcing himself to take another step, and another, and another until they escaped Death again. He never had to push himself to the edge, not really, because he had Sunggyu. But he was walking on the plank alone now, and he had to learn how to walk on water.

 

              Myungsoo nodded, the paralysing hopelessness leaking away slowly. He clenched his jaw, locking his gaze with the other, the embers of his will hesitantly starting to burn until his head cleared and consciousness returned to him, along with the sudden desire to _fight_ through this, and win. Sungjong gave him a crooked smile, eyes glinting with what looked like approval. He released his jaw and stepped back, facing him as a man to man, pirate to pirate.

 

              “I’ll keep up.”

 

              Myungsoo picked up the piece of wood that he had unconsciously dropped earlier, pounding in the nail until the plank stuck. His arms ached, cramping with the cold and overwork but he persisted, spurred on by the glow of stubborn hope in his chest. “I’ll go see if Sungyeol needs help,” Myungsoo turned and ran up the stairs to the poop deck, just catching Sungjong’s nod of acknowledgement and a warning to be careful.

 

              If being in the hold was like being in a sinking ship, being on the poop deck was like drowning in the ocean. Frothy waves dashed themselves against the side of the ship, spilling over onto the poop deck and mixing with the rain that fell in heavy sheets from the sky. Myungsoo half-ran, half-stumbled over to where Sungyeol was standing, a lone figure at the prow. He splashed through clumsily, trying to keep his balance as the ship rolled drunkenly and made a stomach dropping lurch, the floor slippery and barely visible under so much water.

 

              A sudden wave rose ahead of them, crashing down onto the prow of the ship and engulfing their captain without warning. “Sungyeol!” he yelled instinctively and immediately realising the stupidity of it when his voice was swallowed up by the howling winds. The captain emerged a few moments later, clinging onto the wheel like a literal lifeline and shaking his head. Myungsoo felt an unexpectedly strong surge of relief, hurrying up to Sungyeol.

 

              The captain’s head snapped to the side, face twisting into surprise, “What the hell are you doing here, idiot?” he screeched, wrenching the wheel to one side and almost crossing his eyes to keep them on the waves in front and Myungsoo at the side. “Get back down into the hold!”

 

              “You need someone up here too!” he argued, throat painful from straining to be heard above the noise. “Sungjong’s almost done fixing the holes, which sails should I raise?”

 

              “Tell Sungjong to come up here and do it instead, I’d rather have him washed overboard.” At the look on Myungsoo’s face he rolled his eyes, “Raise the small ones at the side, I think we’re almost through the worst of it.”

 

              Myungsoo carefully edged over to the sides, keeping near whatever support he could find while undoing the ropes as quickly as he could. The sails unfurled, weighed down by water and promptly attempting to suffocate him. He twisted out of them, keeping a fistful of cloth in his hand just in case and praying that Sungyeol was right for once.

 

              He was. Myungsoo wanted to weep with joy. The storm abated gradually, waves calming down from their vicious power earlier. When the ship didn’t feel like it was going to fall to pieces, Sungjong and Myungsoo retreated to the common room near the back of the ship, clothes sodden and bodies shivering. Sungjong slammed the door open and collapsed onto the nearest chair, Myungsoo trudging in miserably behind him. “You’ll catch a cold like that,” he frowned, closing the door behind him and shutting the icy wind out. He felt momentarily sorry for Sungyeol, who was still out in the deck and probably cursing the crap out of them, at which he promptly lost all compassion.

 

              Sungjong scoffed and waved a hand dismissively, apparently too tired to do anything else and slouched down in the chair, all usual grace gone. Myungsoo sighed and left for his cabin, knowing better than to argue. Thankfully, this part of the ship wasn’t damaged very badly, he honestly didn’t know how they would survive otherwise. He shivered from more than just cold, hurrying along faster, the occasional wind whistling through the holes in the wall and puddles of water splashing up into his already wet boots. By some stroke of luck his cabin was miraculously undamaged and Myungsoo changed into some dry clothes, gratefully wriggling out of the sodden ones and picking up a blanket and a spare coat.

 

              The younger pirate had fallen asleep in the chair, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle and lips parted slightly. Myungsoo stood for a moment over the other, fingers entangled in the blanket and coat before sitting down slowly next to him. As though drawn by a magnet he reached out and touched his fingers lightly to the other’s cheek, not really sure why he was doing so. Maybe it was the need to feel something solid after coming so close to dying, or maybe it was to convince himself that this warm, vulnerable Sungjong was the same one who had growled at him with blazing eyes and fought tooth and nail for something that he didn’t even ask to be part of.

 

              Even soaking wet and exhausted, Sungjong was beautiful. The wary, distrustful gaze hidden behind fragile eyelids edged with dark lashes, disdainful sneer smoothed out into a soft mouth with prettily curved lips. The usual hard features were relaxed, strong lines made less harsh and almost gentle with sleep. With a jolt Myungsoo realized that he didn’t look like a pirate, he looked like a young boy. And with another jolt came the unpleasant understanding that this was what he had always been all along.

 

              As if in a trance he dragged his fingers down the cheek, feeling smooth skin under his fingertips. The warm sensation from earlier ignited again, increasing a notch in intensity and squeezing his heart with an unfamiliar emotion. Sungjong shivered in his sleep, eyelids fluttering and his fingers jerked away reflexively, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to escape his chest. He stood up, an odd mix of embarrassment and confusion and something that was burning hot and paralyzing and completely foreign taking place as he hurriedly draped the blanket over the other and retreated into the blessedly cool air outside.

 

              Sungyeol didn’t even look surprised at his reappearance, simply giving him a resigned glance and shaking his head. “And how may I help you now?” he asked mockingly, arms lying heavy on the steering. Myungsoo didn’t reply simply, wrapped the coat around the other and nudged him away. “I’ll take over. You go and change.”

 

              The captain made no move to leave, simply wrapping the coat more tightly around himself and watching him with an amused smile until he started to feel self-conscious about his insubordination. He turned the rudder gently to steer past a large rock, the ship a lot easier to maneuver now that the waves had calmed. “Look at you, ordering the captain himself about and steering a ship by yourself.” Sungyeol sounded like a mixture between entertained and teasing, which isn’t much different from his usual mood except for the dully bitter tone underneath. He side-eyed the other, catching a glimpse of what looked almost like disappointment before Sungyeol turned around with a careless smirk. “Pity the waves weren’t big enough to drown us, huh?”

 

              “If we drowned we wouldn’t be able to look for the treasure.” He replied cautiously, not quite sure what to make of bipolar Sungyeol’s abrupt statement. Sungyeol was starting to sound semi-drunk and a bit like what he was the other night, even though there were no visible bottles of rum in sight. Maybe a tuna smacked him in the face and made him a bit cuckoo.

 

              Sungyeol snorted, “Do you think the treasure even exists?” He pulled the coat off and stripped off his shirt, seemingly unaffected by the icy wind cutting into tanned skin and dropped the soaked garment onto the floor before pulling on the coat again. “I might as well let us crash just now and save us the voyage.”

 

              Myungsoo made no reply, giving up on interpreting the ominous statement and potentially losing his mind and attempting to throttle the captain. “Is Sungjong doing okay?” Sungyeol suddenly asked, changing the topic without warning as usual.

 

              “Why do you care, you were ready to throw him into the ocean an hour ago.” He had meant it as a joke, to pull a more familiar Sungyeol that he could actually deal with back. A bit too much had happened in the past hour and Kim Myungsoo needed some time to chew thoughtfully on them before he confronts anything else.

 

              By Murphy’s law or Myungsoo’s law of unluckiness he got the exact opposite reaction. Sungyeol’s face darkened, mood taking an abrupt turn, “True, why do I care.” His eyes glazed over, fixing onto some point in the horizon. “And why haven’t I killed you both yet.” He sounded contemplative, like he was reflecting on a truth of the universe. Sungyeol was staring at the floor, hands behind his back and standing completely still, in a way that meant he could burst into motion at any second and Myungsoo wouldn’t have the slightest warning. Myungsoo felt a shiver skitter up his back, one that definitely didn’t come from the stiff wind still whipping around them.  

 

              He shifts slightly, feeling the weight of his sword on his hip and briefly wondering if knocking him out would produce the same outcome he was lucky enough to get the other day. Several weeks of being virtually stuck next to the captain didn’t do much to help him understand the other. He swung from childish amusement to darkly musing sadism in seconds. No wonder Sunggyu liked him, he was just like Woohyun. “Because we’re too lovable to kill?” Myungsoo finally tried in desperation when the silence got thicker and heavier.

 

              That surprised a laugh out of the captain, the sound clashing oddly with his dark expression. “You’re too lovely to die.” Sungyeol suddenly turned him around, one hand flying up to wrap around his neck, thumb and index finger pressing on his pulse point. Another arm came up slowly to cage him between the steering and the captain. Myungsoo blinked up at him, surprised but not afraid of the vulnerable position. He didn’t bother to struggle, simply watched Sungyeol watch him, the captain gazing at him with an inexplicable intensity as though trying to find something in the planes of his face. His thumb stroked along the artery in a precise and intimate movement, nails scuffing the skin lightly.

 

              Even though the storm was over, Myungsoo felt as though the lightning had migrated into the captain, the tall body so close to him taut with tension and power. “No,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the sound of the waves, “Not you.” Something clicked in the other’s gaze, the eyes clearing and focusing on Myungsoo with frightening clarity.

 

              “Myungsoo.” The voice cuts through the air like a whip. Myungsoo jumped, automatically moving to get out of the unintentionally suggestive position. Sungyeol didn’t move, he looked at Myungsoo for a moment more before releasing his chin and stepping back. The younger pirate was awake, standing in the doorway and glaring at them both with suspicion. His stomach started roiling again at the sight of the younger, as though he was seasick though he was sure that he had gone way past he stage now. It’s probably the rough seas, and the fact that he haven’t had a proper meal for hours. Yes, that must be it.

 

              “Oh, you’re awake.” He said lamely, by now too overwhelmed to do anything more with his lousy social skills. Remembering his task, he nudged Sungyeol aside, hoping desperately that for once Sungyeol would let him have his way. “I’ll take over.”

 

              “No way, you’ll kill us all.” Sungyeol shoved him aside mercilessly, not hearing his silent cry for help and plainly sobered up from the momentary moodiness. “You, go away and take your pretty face with you. And you,” he jabs a finger at Sungjong who was still standing in the doorway and still looking unfairly suspicious of them both. How cruel. “I don’t like you, so I don’t need a reason to tell you to get lost.”

 

              Sungjong rolls his eyes at the statement and Myungsoo snorts, “That’s rich, considering that you were all eager to crash this boat five minutes ago.” It was only because Myungsoo was half-turning away hat he noticed the reaction of the two pirates. Sungjong stiffened up immediately, freezing midstep with his back still turned to them. The captain’s eyes flickered, rapidly jumping between several points before he grins, mouth stretched _wide wide wide_ in a smile, “And let the torturous past weeks go to waste? Not likely, now go to bed my darlings.”

 

              Myungsoo gave him a disgusted look and left, following after Sungjong who was retreating down to his cabin. “Do you want something to eat?” he called after the escaping pirate, not really wanting him to collapse from hunger even though hiding from Sungjong was the top of his to-do list now. He prays Sungjong doesn’t notice the slightly shaky note in his voice and that the pirate wasn’t awake enough to register what happened a while ago.

 

              “I’m fine,” Sungjong replies briefly, dispassionate façade sliding back in so cleanly Myungsoo wouldn’t be surprised if someone told him that he had dreamed the whole thing, “I’m going to bed.” Myungsoo feels a rush of frustration at Sungjong’s retreating back, half-wanting to pull off his still sodden boot and throw it at the other’s head to elicit a reaction, a curse, anything that would let him feel like he wasn’t the only human on board with two other bipolar puppets. By the time Myungsoo makes a decision the pirate had kindly disappeared and he sulkily trudged down to his cabin, dragging his feet along as much as he could. He kicks in the door, childishly taking his annoyance out on the tree corpse and gleefully imagining Sungyeol’s reaction when he has to pay for the damages. “Myungsoo.”

 

              Myungsoo did not jump and slip on the puddle of water he made with his boots and slam his forehead on the door jamb. It was a sudden rough wave. He straightens up quickly, pretending that it was completely his intention to try and give himself a concussion. Sungjong was standing a little down the corridor, his unruffled exterior cracking as his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh. “Don’t laugh.” He warned, feeling his stomach flip over when Sungjong bursts into giggles, eyes curving into crescents and face scrunching up adorably. “I’m offended.” He is, he really is, but Sungjong’s laugh isn’t helping. At all. Maybe Sungjong wasn’t as unaffected from their near death experience as he thought. He attempts to throw the other a glare, planning retreat before he’s humiliated even further.

 

              “Wait.” Sungjong said, mirth draining out. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

 

              Myungsoo spins around so fast he almost hits himself on the door jamb again, convinced that the knock to his head really did mess with his mind because there was no way that Lee Sungjong just said what he did. But Sungjong was still there, standing in front of him, and he had that defiant, challenging expression that meant that he was embarrassed. Sungjong seemed to realise the implication of his statement because he hurried to add on. “The window in my cabin broke in and my bed is completely soaked and I refuse to ask for help from Sungyeol.” He spoke in a rush, plainly wanting to get all the words out in the open and staring at a point between Myungsoo’s eyebrows. Oh. Myungsoo tried to pretend that he didn’t feel a tad bit disappointed. “It’ll only be for a couple of nights until my bed dries, I’ll drag it up onto the deck tomorrow morning.” He looks at Myungsoo expectantly, and Myungsoo really really wants to help him, he really does, but tonight couldn’t have been a worse time because he needs to roll about his bed and bury himself in his pillows and blankets for the next eight hours and reflect on his literal life-changing experience and obsessively pondering why he touched _the_ Lee Sungjong’s face while he was sleeping and convincing himself that he was not a creeper and yelling to the courts it was all a spur of the moment thing so it wouldn’t look so bad and –

 

              Sungjong must have sensed his hesitation and was blinking rapidly, tossing his hair back and shifting his gaze to Myungsoo’s shoulder, “It’s fine,” he said a bit too loudly, cheeks dusted very slightly pink with embarrassment, “I understand, I shouldn’t have asked.”

 

              He turns to go, and Myungsoo thinks that he really must have hit himself in his head too hard because there was no way that he grew the balls to open his mouth and say, “It’s alright. You can stay.”

 

              It was awkward as hell of course. They lay stiffly side by side in the suddenly too small bed, backs turned to each other and each trying to get as far as possible without falling off. Sungjong wouldn’t stop shivering and sneezing and pulling the meagre blanket over, and Myungsoo really wants to be a good host but he was fucking freezing and if there was one thing he despised more than the blazing sun, it was being unable to sleep because he was too cold. He shifts, trying to tuck his toes into the mattress and accidentally brushing Sungjong’s leg in the process, muttering an apology when he heard a curse. Myungsoo forcefully turned his thoughts away on how smooth the skin of his leg was.

 

              He cuddles down into his pillow miserably, wondering what Dongwoo would say about this. Probably laugh, and then proceed to make a bet with Sunggyu that he would die a virgin. By his side, Sungjong sneezed again. “Are you cold?” he asked, concern overriding awkwardness and turned over to face Sungjong’s back.

 

              “I’m fine,” he sniffed, back shuddering again when a gust of wind blows in. “God, how did you even manage to sleep in here.”

 

              “I had my blanket.” Myungsoo replied honestly, shifting in place and hoping that some body heat would radiate across the foot of space between them. Sungjong snapped his head around and started to get up, “This was a bad idea,” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed, “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

 

              “Wait, no!” He grabs onto the slim wrist, almost falling off the bed himself. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Clearly this entire thing was harder on Sungjong’s pride than it looked, because it was only after a few seconds of hesitation that he stiffly got back in, curling in on himself.

 

              “I think I caught a cold.” Sungjong finally said after several minutes of ice solid silence, his voice muffled by the blanket, “Stupid storm.” Myungsoo tries to think of several ways to say ‘I told you so!’ without losing the teeth in his mouth. When Sungjong made a sound like he was trying to force a lung out of his nostrils, Myungsoo decides that he’s going to set up a date with Death and/or Humiliation, because he would rather have that than have the younger freeze into a corpse. “Um, do you want to cuddle? To warm you up?” he asked timidly, moving closer to the younger.

 

               The younger finally turns around, eyeing him critically. “Is this a ruse to feel me up while I’m asleep?”

 

              “What? No, of course not!” Myungsoo stutters, guiltily reminded that he had already crossed the line. “But you seem really cold and Sunggyu always called me a boiler (“This is Myungsoo,” Sunggyu would smirk while introducing him to other pirates, “My hot brother.” Myungsoo had to stop himself from scratching out his eardrums with a needle at the awful pun.) and we always cuddle when it’s cold.” Myungsoo stops short, sealing his lips before he rambles anymore.

 

              Sungjong’s left eyebrow was steadily rising on his forehead as he half lay on his side, still eyeing Myungsoo skeptically. “Alright.” He finally said, lying back down on his side with his back still to Myungsoo. He edged closer, not really sure how close he could come without setting the other off. He settles on a position that lets him sniff inconspicuously at the younger’s hair. “Oh yeah, Sungjong.” He addressed the younger, remembering something that he had to do. Myungsoo fidgets with his fingers nervously, stomach bubbling with so much that he wants to say but absolutely nothing that he could put into coherent words. “Thank you.” He said quietly to the turned back, “For being my friend, and for earlier. You didn’t have to but you did.”

 

              “Seems like you’re thanking me for a lot of things.” Sungjong pulled the blanket over his shoulders, still keeping his back to Myungsoo.

 

              Myungsoo pushed on, not deterred by the lukewarm response. If he didn’t get it out now, he never would get a chance to. Coherency be damned. “I don’t know why you helped me out instead of just breaking my skull in for making a mess of everything all the time and almost completely breaking down at the worst time possible; or why you’re trying so hard for us all when you hate Sungyeol and this is the last place – and the last thing – that you want to do right now. You’re not the icicle people says you are, and I’m glad that you’re showing me this side – ” So engrossed in verbalizing his word vomit, Myungsoo failed to notice Sungjong turning rigid.

 

              Sungjong whirls around, shoving Myungsoo hard enough for him to almost slide off the bed completely. He looks up at Sungjong with wide eyes, realizing too late that he had crossed a line. Sungjong looked livid, pale face even paler in the moonlight, eyes like onyx and jaw clenched so hard it could shatter. “Don’t think so highly of yourself, Kim Myungsoo.” His voice wintry and disconcertingly even, “I don’t do anything that doesn’t benefit me, I’m not ‘helping’ because I’m nice or because you think that I’m your friend. I’m staying because I want the fucking treasure. I would have thought that coming so close to death today would make you grow up and open your eyes to reality, but you’re just as pathetic as ever.” He spits out the last words, sending him another contemptuous glare before turning over on his side, ripping a rift between them. Myungsoo’s heart grows cold at the words, the burning feeling rapidly cooling into a ball of shame and hurt that clogged his throat. Blinking hard, he curls up on his side, not bothered by the cold anymore. He closes his eyes and tries to shut out the world, feeling like a coward for validating Sungjong's words even more.

 

              It could be minutes, maybe hours later when it comes. Myungsoo was falling into a miserable sleep, on the precipice of consciousness in the moments before one falls into blissful void when cool fingers touch his back. His eyelids fly open in surprise, but he doesn’t move. The fingers drift over his back, just a mere brushing with his fingers before reaching up and uncertainly clasping his shoulder. He holds his breath as warmth approaches his back, Sungjong’s arm slowly curling around him. “Don’t,” Sungjong’s voice was low and ragged, something almost like pain in his voice, “Just once, please don’t.” His head lowers to lie between Myungsoo’s shoulder blades with the faintest ghost of a touch.

 

              Myungsoo exhales softly, heart pounding so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if Sungjong could hear it too. Carefully, he lifts a hand and places it over Sungjong’s. He doesn’t know what’s happening, or why, and he was ready to bet that Sungjong didn’t either. But he was used to accepting things without asking, or swallowing questions that didn’t have answers. So he was okay with this. Myungsoo tightens his grip on the hand, his heart twisting with an emotion he doesn’t know, or maybe he does, somewhere deep inside him. His eyelids squeeze shut, he was also ready to bet that tomorrow morning, Sungjong would get up and leave, and they would pretend nothing had ever happened, or dwell on why it happened. But he thinks he would be okay with this too.

 

              Like what Sungjong said, just once.


	6. Sixth step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or should I say sex-th step? Icky stuff so be warned

The door of the tavern swung open, nothing out of the ordinary, just one out of hundreds of times in a day. The cup paused for the briefest moment halfway to his mouth and he had to suppress a smirk. About time, and he was just about to the limit of his dry spell.

 

              Footsteps echoed on the wooden floorboards as the new incomer ordered himself a drink (a stiff brandy, just the way he likes it) at the bar. Woohyun would have told him that he could help himself to the bottle on his table (a stiff brandy, just the way he likes it) but he decided to humour him for once.

 

              The heavy boots walked over and stopped in front of him.

 

              “Hello Sunggyu,” Woohyun greeted without looking up from his cup. He didn’t need to, he never had to.

 

              “Woohyun.” Sunggyu’s voice was flat. Not flat enough, Woohyun could hear the tremors of barely-controlled emotions. He waved his free hand to the empty chair in front of him. “Won’t you take a seat?”

 

              “Woohyun.” He repeated, the trembling stronger than before, edged with warning and rage. Long fingers gripped the back of the seat tight enough to turn the knuckles white. The chair looked like it was three seconds from meeting his face, an echo to the past. A crooked smile quirked his lips at the action and the sudden nostalgia. Sunggyu had never been good at controlling his emotions. He finally looked up from the golden liquid in the cup, meeting Sunggyu’s narrowed gaze, dark with a kind of anger that he rarely ever saw.

 

              It sent a jolt of desire right to his cock.

 

              He got up, feeling himself harden, weeks of sexual tension and anticipation at the sight of the other thrumming through him like a live wire. “Let’s take this to the back, you look like you have something to say to me.” It was a measure of how angry Sunggyu was that he didn’t even mutter a snarky retort back, instead following him at his heels immediately. Woohyun had no doubt how this would go down, he would be surprised if he could even leave the tavern on two legs. Nonetheless, it was worth it. Woohyun was sure of it, he’s always the winner, in every game that he plays.

 

              The tavern had several rooms at the back, Woohyun walked straight to the last one and went in. He stood in the center of the room, counting even breaths as the footsteps thudded slowly in, precise and purposeful. One, two, three. The door swung closed. The breath tore out of his throat as a hand grabbed onto the back of his collar and swung him around to face the older like he was made of fluff. Sunggyu pulled him up until their noses were brushing, lips pulling back over teeth and breath hot on Woohyun’s face, “Where is my brother.”

 

              Woohyun smirked, just to aggravate the other even more, ignoring how his cock swelled even more with the rare show of dominance. It didn’t matter how hard Woohyun fucked him, or how much he made Sunggyu beg, beg for release with his lips, with his hand, with his cock. They both knew who the true master of the game was. “With your precious Yeollie.” He didn’t bother shifting his position, held in a chokehold by the other and pressed flush to the slightly taller male. Not that he had any desire to move, Woohyun was more than satisfied with their current proximity. But satisfied wouldn’t be the right word to explain the feelings rushing through him below the more conscious ones at the fore of his mind.

 

              Sunggyu exhaled, his breath a ghost of heat on Woohyun’s lips. His body responded to that, an ache at the presence of the other. A yearning so strong that he could never hold him close enough, no matter how much they fucked or how closely he held the other or how desperately he clung to him. A feeling that reacted in all the wrong ways. “And I’m assuming that he’s not here anymore.” Sunggyu’s voice brought him back to the present, and he looked at the other properly for the first time since he came in. Underneath the small nose and thin lips made thinner by anger and the delicate but _so stubborn_ chin and carefully controlled expression, worry was lurking at the back of the icy gaze directed at Woohyun. It saddened him, but it was necessary, and he would bear the brunt of it all if it meant that his goal was achieved.

 

              Woohyun put on a mock-serious face, pretending to think deeply. His face broke out into a wicked grin and he shook his head, deliberately slow, “Correct.” The word barely left his mouth before his teeth slammed shut, almost biting his tongue as a punch swung into his jaw. Woohyun stumbled back a step as Sunggyu released his vice-like grip on him, only to fly backwards as a booted foot kicked into his midsection. He rolled to his feet as he fell, ducking aside from another kick and taking advantage of the opening to throw back a punch. “You haven’t even heard my side of the story yet.”

 

              “There is nothing to listen, you asshole!” Sunggyu snarled, looping his arm around Woohyun’s outstretched one and twisted, flipping him to the floor, falling alongside him when Woohyun grabbed onto his foot and yanked. Woohyun rolled on top of him, straddling him and locking a forearm against his shoulders in one of the few positions that Sunggyu was crap at escaping. His will shuddered for a moment, throbbing erection pressed so close to his goal and separated by mere cloth. The other captain struggled against the other, prompting Woohyun to lean his weight down on the other, kicking and bucking when he suddenly froze. He stared at the other incredulously for a moment like he couldn’t believe his gall before throwing his head back and laughing raucously, “You cannot be serious, Nam Woohyun.” Sunggyu’s eyes were malicious and mocking on Woohyun, “Is this what you were after? Is this another one of your games?”

 

              Woohyun didn’t quite understand what he meant, but he couldn’t miss the cruel edge to his voice. He opened his mouth but Sunggyu cut him off, “You know, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could have just said so.” Hurt stabbed through him at the accusation but he couldn’t reply, not when Sunggyu used the momentary distraction to break free of his lax arms, not when instead of escaping Sunggyu had pressed his hand to his bulge, squeezing painfully hard with those long, long fingers. A choked moan escaped him, half in pain but more in pleasure. The older wrapped his free arm around his shoulders and tucked his head into the crook of Woohyun’s neck, mouthing at the skin and biting down, soothing with warm licks right after while his hand continued their torture. “I’ll fuck you right up, Nam Woohyun,” he breathed against Woohyun’s skin, dark promise in his words, “Just the way you were asking for it.”

 

              He pushed Woohyun back, still biting and licking hungrily at the skin of Woohyun’s neck until Woohyun hit the edge of the bed frame. Sunggyu pushed a knee between his splayed legs, prying them open until his hand had full access to his clothed erection. He paused long enough to pull back and yank off the tight pants, tearing the thin shirt he was wearing so that the buttons popped off and scattered all over the floor. Woohyun’s breath hitched in his throat, just in time before Sunggyu slammed a hand onto his neck and against the side of the mattress behind him. He choked, instinctively trying to draw in a ragged breath when Sunggyu swooped down in one smooth motion and engulfed his cock all the way up to the hilt and he really _choked_.

 

              Sunggyu bit down, teeth digging into the hard flesh around the base and dragging along as he lifted his head; hot, wet tongue wrapped around the bottom of his cock, an exquisite torture of pleasure and pain. He sank down again, this time deep enough that throat muscles squeezed the head of his cock in an undulating motion that made him harden even further in the other captain’s throat. He moaned raggedly, hips automatically thrusting up into the impossible tightness and heat before Sunggyu tightened his hold on his neck in a warning grip. Woohyun’s head swam, dizzy with the lack of oxygen and the onslaught of pleasure wrecking his senses. Sunggyu’s eyes drifted up as he bobbed his head aggressively, teeth tearing a line of fire and mouth sucking with enough force to send bright white jolts of pleasure firing down his dick and through his body. Mocking dark eyes took in the choked gasps, the desperation and utter mercy that he is at right now at the literal hands of the other. His head suddenly dipped down again, and as he raised his head he _pulled_ , a single, powerful sucking motion that made Woohyun arch off the bed frame, shoulders digging into the wood below with a strangled cry.

 

              Sunggyu finally let go of his neck, mouth leaving his cock with a deliciously dirty slurping sound. Without pause, he jerked him up to his feet and slammed him onto a wall. He stumbled, completely disoriented by the lack of oxygen and his aching cock, hanging heavy and insistent and so very needy between his legs. “Is this what you wanted, slut?” Sunggyu breathed, teeth pulling at an ear while his hands ran up and down his torso, tugging at nipples and rolling them between his long, long fingers, sending sparks of pleasure that further ignited his need. “For me to punish you so thoroughly until you beg me for release like an animal, for even daring to mess with my brother in the first place?”

 

              Woohyun wanted to shake his head, to open his mouth and catch Sunggyu before he disappears but before he could open his mouth to speak, to even gather his thoughts to speak the other had wrapped a hand around his length, fisting him hard enough it bordered on painful. Sunggyu pressed him further against the wall, biting and mouthing at his collarbone, his shoulder, his throat, until they were covered in angry red and purple bruises and grazed skin.  His hand tugged on his cock with a flick of his wrist, a gasp falling from his lips as the calluses of his palm rubbed against the tender skin. Sunggyu pressed a thumb onto a throbbing vein as his hot hand drew a sensual stroke edged with pain. The hand disappeared, replaced with an elegant index finger and thumb that held the head of his cock like a coin he would hold up to inspect.

 

              Sunggyu smirked, one hand yanking his head forward and mouth immediately latching onto the vulnerable side of his neck while fingers increased the pressure, rolling and pressing the sensitive head, rubbing on the slit oozing cum with a precision that made Woohyun release a half-sob of moan and whine. A thumb scuffed at the foreskin of the head, index finger pressing viciously at the hypersensitive bottom in a spot that made white spots of electrifying pleasure dance across Woohyun’s vision. Sunggyu grinded against him, rubbing his own erection onto Woohyun’s abs and guiding the head to his entrance. Woohyun struggled, hips bucking wildly and wanting to scream in frustration when the other pinned him even harder against the wall. “Oh no you don’t, I’m not done yet.” Sunggyu said, sadistic anger lacing husky voice. The hand that had been greedily caressing his abs slid up, bypassing taut nipples to grab his neck, throwing him onto the bed before Sunggyu, taking advantage of his momentary confusion, pulled both his hands above his head and tied them together with the bed sheets.

 

              Woohyun realised his plan straightaway and thrashed, attempting to kick the other off. Sunggyu sat his full weight on him, curbing his movements and stretching up to tie the sheets securely to the bed posts. He finished the knot, sensually sliding back to a sitting position, ostentatiously showing off his flexibility as lips and hands lingered on his skin. “Look up,” Sunggyu ordered, tangling his fingers into a fistful of dark hair, “I want you to watch me while I fuck myself on your long, thick cock. I want you to watch while I fuck myself to oblivion while you stay, high and dry and not even able to touch yourself.” As if to emphasise his words he grinded down, shamelessly rubbing his entrance against Woohyun’s cock.

 

              Sunggyu’s eyes settled on his face, taking in his reactions as he got onto a kneeling position and spread his legs obscenely, stretching his pink, twitching entrance and resting it lightly on the tip of Woohyun’s cock before slamming down, taking him in all the way. A long, drawn-out moan ripped its way out of his throat, Sunggyu’s burning hot, wet tightness an incredibly tight sheath around him. He tried to thrust, desperate for friction but Sunggyu pressed his hips down, restricting his movements. He lifted himself and sank down again, riding Woohyun hard and fast and dirty, throwing his head back and moaning each time Woohyun’s cock hit his prostate. His hand came down to stroke himself, rubbing at the slit in time with his motions. It was too much for Woohyun even with the pleasure that Sunggyu was giving him reluctantly, his thighs started to tremble, cock stiffening even more in the way that meant he was close to the edge.

 

              Sunggyu’s eyes snapped open and in one smooth motion he lifted himself off Woohyun, looking smug at the protesting growl that fell from his lips. Woohyun glared at him, sucking in a breath when Sunggyu casually sat back and pushed his own legs up to his chest, spreading himself open before Woohyun. “I told you that you weren’t going to come, Woohyun.” Sunggyu’s voice, Woohyun was pleased to note, was very slightly shaky despite the velvety tone, clearly more affected than what he was aiming for. His pupils were blown wide, fixated on the state of Woohyun’s arousal, of his swollen, leaking shaft, already twitching at the anticipation of what he was going to do next. Sunggyu lifted trembling fingers to his mouth, sucking on them rapidly and plunging them into his loosened entrance. He whimpered, working his fingers deeper in and curling them until he found what he was looking for. “Woohyun!” he cried out, back arching as fingers stabbed in, pressing down on them. The sound was like a stimulant, stunning his mind and cock with a lightning hot bolt of awareness. Woohyun couldn’t hold back anymore, he moaned, almost begging as his cock twitched at the sound of Sunggyu’s call, of the debauchery laid out so temptingly in front of him. “Sunggyu _, please_ ,” at any other time he would have been embarrassed of being so desperate, but at this point in time he didn’t care at all. All he knew was that he needed to plunge into that hole, to thrust frantically and hard enough that his hips threatened to snap, until he could reach his release.

 

              “What was that, Woohyun?” Sunggyu was being a bastard, finger-fucking himself while keeping himself spread open in the most torturous way imaginable, as though oblivious to his effect on Woohyun.

 

              “I said please,” he panted, voice dropping to a whine, squirming on the bed restlessly in his need, “Fine, I’m sorry!” he burst out, a distant part of his mind that wasn’t hazed with lust cunningly noting that this was merely an act to get what he wanted, that penitence was the last thing on his mind. “Let me fuck you, please.”

 

              Sunggyu smiled, drawing the fingers out of him languidly, “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Be a good boy and hyung would happily suck your cock and let you fuck him. You just need to learn to be good.” A menacing tone entered his voice, hinting that the ‘lesson’ was not completely over yet. He crawled up to Woohyun, dipping his head to kiss the leaking slit. “Does it hurt?” he asked in a mock-concerned voice, “Should hyung kiss it better?”

 

              “I don’t want you to kiss it better, Sunggyu, I want to fuck you.” He rasped, words beguiling his actions as he lifted his hips to trace his cock along soft lips.

             

              Sunggyu tutted, “So demanding.” But there was a glint in his eyes, a glint that told Woohyun that the other was more than pleased with the promise of Woohyun’s revenge. He reached to the floor and tossed Woohyun a dagger, “Cut yourself free.”

 

              Woohyun’s hands were slippery on the dagger as he sawed the cloth off, jagged lines ripping across in his eagerness to get to the other, who was already arranging himself in his earlier position; long legs spread impossibly wide, pushed to his chest to display his entrance. The cloth fell off, fluttering to the ground as Woohyun sprung, plunging into Sunggyu with a thrust. Sunggyu moaned beneath him, dark eyes glazed over with lust and pleasure and hands coming up to rake deep scratches down his back. Woohyun shuddered at the sensation, hips snapping and setting up a quick pace, his cock reaching deep and hard with each thrust.

 

              Sunggyu draped his legs around Woohyun’s shoulders, giving him more access and crying out as Woohyun hit his prostate. With a sudden understanding Woohyun realised that this was what Sunggyu had been aiming for. He couldn’t stand not being fucked by Woohyun, but he wanted to make sure that Woohyun suffered as much as possible – and gain the upper hand – while doing so, by driving him crazy with need. He realises this between his thrusts, that for the life of him he had no way of taking revenge on the other by drawing his orgasm out, because right now it was humanely impossible for him to do so without losing his sanity. “You fucker,” he hissed.

 

              Sunggyu’s grin widened, understanding without needing further explanations, “Wrong,” he sang out, “How does it feel? To have my greedy hole suck in your big, fat cock like a slut? Just the way you always liked it.” The last words were delivered in a seductive murmur to his ear and Woohyun lost it, careening over the edge and releasing deep within the other. In some part of his mind he heard Sunggyu’s moan as he reached his peak too, walls clamping down hard around his sensitive length and sending a shudder of pleasure, muted by the aftershocks thrumming through his body. For a moment Woohyun completely forgot the reason why they were both here, too absorbed in the feel of Sunggyu’s soft, lean body beneath him; his familiar scent, musky with the smell of their coupling, surrounding them in a cocoon and the calm contentment of being with the other that he never felt with anyone or anything else.

 

              He felt hands pushing at his chest and Woohyun pulled back, confused but obeying, pulling out of the other. He watched as Sunggyu got off the bed and cleaned himself up, putting on his clothes without a single word or glance to him. “Are you happy now?” Sunggyu raised cold eyes to him, expression tinted with just the slightest bit of contempt, all the emotions drained away. “Got what you wanted?”

 

              The words stung, pricking at the cavern in his chest. Woohyun’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat up on the bed, folding his legs beneath him. “What are you saying, Sunggyu.” He asked quietly, some part deep in him already guessing – and tensing – from the answer. The other captain barked a harsh laugh, “Don’t waste my time anymore Nam,” the relapse to his surname didn’t miss him, and he pressed his lips together at that, “Why else would you take Myungsoo away from me? I always knew you were a cunning bastard, but this is beyond – or should I say below – my expectations.”

 

              Woohyun straightened his back, all signs of relaxation gone. “You can’t possibly be thinking that I sent Myungsoo to Sungyeol because I wanted to piss you off, can you.” He said slowly, the words thick and ugly in his mouth.

 

              “Piss me off enough for this.” He waved a dismissive hand at Woohyun’s naked form, lips curling in a sneer. “Well?” he tapped a foot impatiently when Woohyun didn’t answer, “You got what you wanted, now tell me where Myungsoo is and I’ll see you in two decades’ time, or hopefully never again.”

 

              Before this, Woohyun would have thought that nothing could ever beat the pain he felt when Sunggyu pushed him away and slashed him across the chest on the ship so many years ago. But what he felt now hurt more than that, not a roiling storm of hurt and betrayal, but an ache that crushed at his heart until it felt like he would choke if he tried to speak. He could imagine himself now, getting up and pulling on his clothes before angrily leaving the tavern, full of bitter disappointment and hurt, ready to get onto his ship and sail away until he forgot about auburn hair and fox-like eyes, but he couldn’t. Not with the ache reaching deep into bone and muscle with an overpowering tiredness that literally made him sag down with the sheer weight of it. Sunggyu seemed to grow annoyed at his lack of response, striding forwards to tilt his chin up with a finger. “Answer me, where is he? Or do we have to do another round to convince you.”

 

              Woohyun snapped, springing to his feet and shoving Sunggyu hard enough that he stumbled back and almost fell, his eyes widening in surprise. “You fucker,” he breathed again, the hurt in him boiling up steadily to a shaking anger. “I can’t believe that you won’t think that lowly about me.”

 

              “Isn’t that what you are?” This was no light-hearted exchange of playful insults, Sunggyu had meant every word that he was saying. And they both knew it. Woohyun stepped forwards and shoved him again, the rage pouring into his limbs and filling them with the strength that had seeped out earlier. “You always assume the worst about me, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, “It doesn’t matter what I tell you, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. You already think what you want of me, so what does it matter what I say?” Sunggyu narrowed his eyes, returning Woohyun’s shove with one of his own.

 

              “Myungsoo would never leave my side,” he hissed, “Is it so hard to believe that _someone_ dragged him off my ship and sent him on a wild goose hunt for his own purposes?”

 

              “Is it so hard to believe that Myungsoo may have _wanted_ to leave you?” Woohyun yelled, clenching his fists by his side, barely holding himself back from really punching the other.  “Is it so hard to believe that maybe he wanted to learn something, to grow the fuck up without you looking over his shoulder and not letting him swing so much as a stick without completely baby-proofing his surroundings first?”

 

              “Fuck you, Nam Woohyun! What the hell do you know, you don’t care about anyone but yourself!” Sunggyu lashed back, eyes spitting sparks, looking like he was two seconds from leaping for Woohyun’s jugular.

 

             Woohyun laughed at that, a hard hacking that sounded nothing like a laugh, “Can you even hear yourself now, Kim Sunggyu?” his voice was eerily cold and steady when he spoke, the rage draining out of his tone but not his body. Sunggyu must have realised that he crossed a line at that, his gaze flickered for a moment but he didn’t back down, just continued glaring at him warily. “If I didn’t care for anyone, would I have come after Myungsoo to _ask_ him, not force him, about whether or not he wanted to join Sungyeol? Would I have put myself through so much trouble sailing all the way here, arranging for Sungyeol to meet us and sending off my best navigator to watch his back while he was gone? Would I have cared about whether or not he could learn to keep himself safe instead of dying the next time your back was turned? If I didn’t care about anyone,” Woohyun’s voice rose again, “Would I have done all of this for you?!”

 

              Sunggyu’s lips parted, disconcertment replacing righteous anger. “Do you think that I don’t know that Myungsoo is the one person you care for more than anything else in the world? That him getting hurt hurts you as though you were the one who was injured?” Woohyun scoffed, “You’re so blind when it comes to him that you wouldn’t believe anyone but yourself, but what’s new there?”

 

              He clenched his jaw, throat clogging up with an unfamiliar emotion. “You could at least have believed that little about me.” Woohyun paused, the next words resisting for a moment before he let it fall in a resigned exhale. “It’s always been about you. You, and nothing else. Nothing else because there isn’t anything else I care about at all.”

 

              The room fell silent, the both of them standing in the middle of it. A breeze blew in, dancing over Woohyun’s naked skin but he barely shivered, still feverish from emotions. Sunggyu was looking lost, clearly thrown off track and unsure what to do or say now. He had never been good at expressing himself, always too wary of giving away too much of himself. “Look at me,” Woohyun broke the silence, “Look at _us_. It’s been years and I’m still running after someone who can’t trust anyone enough to love them back properly.” Sunggyu flinched, the words obviously hitting too close to home. It tasted sour in his throat. Woohyun gave a short laugh, bitter and hard, “It doesn’t make any sense for me to stay, but then again it doesn’t even make sense for me to love you as much as I do.”

 

              Sunggyu stretched out a hand uselessly across the space, the physical distance nothing compared to how far he felt from the other. “Woohyun, you know how I feel – ”, he began.

 

              “No, no I don’t.” Woohyun cut him off, knowing that his gaze was bright with an unpleasantly familiar dark anger. A part of the monster he thought he had finally killed. “I don’t know what you feel for me. What do you even feel for me? Lust? Adventure?” he gave a humourless snort, “Because I can be pretty sure that I’m at least a good fuck to you.”

 

              The other captain closed his eyes, face crumpling in what looked almost like pain. He breathed in once, twice and opened his mouth, closing them again. Woohyun wanted to feel vindicated, but this was something that he never wanted to be right about. He turned around and started dressing himself, Sunggyu’s gaze heavy on his back and almost feeling the internal struggle he was going through. “Are you leaving already?” Sunggyu finally asked hesitantly. Woohyun jerked a nod, fumbling to button his shirt before realising that more than half of them were gone. He bit back an annoyed sigh and tucked them into his pants, leaving the shirt half opened.

 

             “Where are you going?” Sunggyu tried again, sticking to a safe path, as usual. Captain Kim, as free and wild and brave as the wind that rode over the waves, didn’t fear anything that crossed his path.  But he feared what walked the path with him.

 

              “Away,” Woohyun replied simply, looking for the boots that he kicked off earlier. He wriggled his feet in, turning around just in time to catch Sunggyu’s conflicted expression. This time he didn’t hold back a sigh, he didn’t feel angry anymore. He just felt tired and old and so very, very sad. It was true what they said, that the one who makes you feel alive could kill you too. “It doesn’t matter which way I go,” Woohyun said gently, “Because they’ll all wind up back to you.”

 

              A bubble of helpless, slightly hysterical laughter rose and he chortled, the sound hopeless and hollow. He didn’t know what he was laughing at, at them, their situation, at him, there was nothing amusing about it, but the whole thing was just so pathetic that it was funny. “I love you, Sunggyu,” he coughed between chuckles, “I can’t ever let you go. I need you, I want you, and I love you. More than I ever thought this empty heart of mine is capable of.”

 

              Woohyun moved to the door, his hand pausing on the door handle. Sunggyu hadn’t moved from his position, just standing stock still as Woohyun’s words echoed in the room. “I can’t escape from you, no matter where you are or what you say or what you do to me, and you know what’s really funny about it? I’ll never want to.” And he left the room, half of what he went in with.


	7. Seventh step

             “Again,” the tip of the sword prodded him, hard enough to be aggravating but not enough to pierce skin. Myungsoo swatted the tip away half-heartedly, dragging himself to his feet and picking up his sword again. Sungyeol casually swung his sword from side to side, as though the heavy blade was nothing more than the wooden sword Myungsoo used for practice.

 

             He shifted his grip on his own sword, sweaty palms slippery on the handle as he struggled to adjust to the weight. “Use it like an arm, not a stick.” Sungyeol instructed, lifting the tip of his sword with his own. “Ready?” Sungyeol didn’t wait for an answer, darting forwards and slashing a deadly arc at Myungsoo’s belly.

 

             Myungsoo jumped back unsteadily, bringing his sword up and blocking the next blow, his left arm clumsy and throbbing from an early cut. (“Cut the tendons and hamstrings and you’re one step away from cutting their necks. Aim for those.” Myungsoo was smart enough to realise that Sungyeol had no qualms using him as a demonstration.) He swung his sword before Sungyeol had a chance to retract his, nicking a cut into the soft flesh on the inside of his elbow.

 

             Sungyeol grinned, unfazed. “Good one, but not deep enough.” He leapt lightly to the side, catching Myungsoo in the ribs before he could twist away.  He bit his lips, holding back a hiss of pain to focus on aiming a stab at his wrist, trying to disarm him. The sun was beating down on his unprotected head, the exhaustion from the drawn out duelling session coupled and an impending heatstroke happily pounding a rhythm away in his head. Sungjong was at the wheel as he had been since morning when Sungyeol had barged into what passed as the dining room and with characteristic bluntness had demanded to ‘train’ Myungsoo. Myungsoo agreed, partly to escape being alone with Sungjong and partly because it wasn’t like he really had a choice anyway. He had lain awake for a long time last night, Sungjong’s arm around him, tight and a little desperate, tense with conflicting emotions. Knowing Sungjong, it was probably pride from not wanting to seem too needy and pride from wanting to seem like he didn’t give a damn.

 

             He wishes he could be a bit like him, or at least like his brother, so that his brain wouldn’t roll around his skull trying to fold in on itself with embarrassment and sparkly girly feelings and basically more emotions than he can handle _all at the same time_ with _Lee Sungjong’s arm_ around him and so close he could practically feel his thoughts like a furnace at his back. When the sun peeked over the horizon, Sungjong had stirred, carefully slipping out of the bed and obviously trying not to wake Myungsoo as he padded out the room as though he had never entered.

 

             Myungsoo lets him think that.

 

             (He tried to pretend that his eyes weren’t gritty and sore from staring at the wall in the darkness all night) He had rolled over, curling up on the warm patch Sungjong left behind, the only trace of him left, and tried to sort his thoughts out. By the time Sungjong knocked on his door to wake him up for breakfast, gaze cool and impersonal as though nothing had happened, Myungsoo had only come up to two conclusions to the mess of incoherency buzzing around in his head. If Sungjong had noticed the puffiness of his eyes, he didn’t comment on it, simply turning away to head to the dining room. Myungsoo had followed soon after, eyes on the ground as he tried to come to terms with the fact somewhere, sometime, he had come to care for Sungjong more than he should.

 

             He tries not to dwell too much on the last word, the word that links him to his second thought, the understanding that he’ll have to commit his first murder and quietly smother what Sungjong will never allow to grow. Myungsoo never understood why people (namely Dongwoo during his fits of cheesy sentimentality. Sunggyu would cut out his tongue and carve it into a middle finger before he said shit like that) said that love would hurt, but now that he has both his hands in it, he thinks he could begin to get it.

 

             Sungjong’s face was smooth and blank over breakfast, every motion languid and unhurried with nothing to give away what he felt. If he felt anything at all. Myungsoo nibbled on his biscuits, still keeping his eyes down and fiddling with his thoughts in his hands until they felt less strange and more familiar to him, repeating it to himself over and over again in his mind until he was so used to it he could accept them without thinking (or feeling) too much.

 

             He should let this go, he really, really should. But Kim Myungsoo wasn’t Kim Sunggyu’s brother for nothing. They were both stubborn as fuck. And they didn’t really like letting things go, especially if they thought (that was Sunggyu) or knew (that is definitely him right now) that something was up. He had snuck a look at Sungjong as the other pirate reached for the ale, trying to see past the inscrutable veneer and trying not to be seen. His eyes flicked up to meet Myungsoo’s for a second before it flitted away, the casual motion giving away more than he thought. Sungjong blinked quickly as he drank the ale, an unconscious habit whenever he was nervous, something that Myungsoo picked up on but never really noticed before. “Stop staring at me,” Sungjong’s voice broke the thick silence and Myungsoo winced. Damn it. “It’s creepy.” The last tacked on almost as an afterthought as though Sungjong belatedly noticed the edge to his tone.

 

             “Who said I was staring at you?” He replied offhandedly. A juvenile response, or amateur as Woohyun would sneer down his stupidly pointy nose and pretending like he didn’t have to tilt his head up just to make that expression, but Myungsoo was crap at word play. His mind just didn’t move fast enough. He obnoxiously crunched his biscuits, gaze darting from side to side, not used to word banter with anyone but his brother. Especially this guy. Myungsoo still didn’t know what to make of the situation, of his emotions, of Sungjong’s emotions and exactly what to do that wouldn’t trigger an explosion ending with a meat knife sticking out of his right eye socket. But he had to know, or at least stare and stare until he figures out what the pirate was thinking last night and what he was thinking now and what he was thinking to do next. If he doesn’t, he’ll be the one exploding with frustration over this. Whatever it is.

 

             Sungjong furrowed his eyebrows, looking more annoyed than anything else. A usual response, but Myungsoo couldn’t help staring even harder, trying to break the front with his gaze. And that was when Sungyeol slammed the door open, announcing that they have a duelling session scheduled today because he was sick of lugging around pansies on his ship and it’s honestly embarrassing for my reputation, and I’m talking to you Myungsoo. “What duel?” Myungsoo had asked curiously, finally giving up on the flaky biscuits as a lost cause and getting up from the chair.

 

             The smirk he received was rakish and smug and all-round alarming, “You’re going to learn how to fight properly kid, or die trying.”

 

             “Okay, foreplay’s over. Now we get to the real thing.” Sungyeol’s voice broke through his thoughts, shaking the hair out of his eyes and mopping away the sweat beading on his forehead with his sleeve. He cocked his head, annoyingly cool and relaxed as he watched Myungsoo try to catch his breath, black shirt practically dripping with sweat and absorbing every bit of heat from the sun that it could. He straightened his weary body, stubbornly, determinedly, moving back into position. “I’m going to be rough, kid – ”

 

             “Don’t call me that.” The retort slipped out before he could stop himself, voice sharp. An eyebrow – well, half-eyebrow, Myungsoo amended – lifted at his mini rebellion, but he conceded anyway, continuing, “No one in this world is going to go easy on you, everyone’s going to be busy looking after their own asses so it’s up to you to watch your own back. It’s the law of the jungle, deal with it.” Sungyeol’s eyes narrowed, lips lifting slightly in a sneer. “But just to keep things fun, I’ll let you go first.”

 

             Myungsoo adjusted his grip on the handle of his sword, breathing out evenly through his nose and running through what Sungyeol had drilled into his head non-stop since they started. _The only thing sharper than your sword should be your eyes, it’s the split second before a move that counts._ He took a deep breath, noticing how Sungyeol noticed it too and responded, long figure shifting infinitesimally to a more guarded position. He shook his head slightly, fighting away the tiredness while discreetly keeping an eye on Sungyeol. The latter responded unconsciously, relaxing his position marginally. He barely settled into his new position before Myungsoo sprang, swinging his sword and feeling the vibration of metal on metal when the captain pulled up his sword at the last second. He didn’t pause, jumping to the side and feinting before aiming a stab just above the knee. Sungyeol chuckled as blood spilled on the deck, clearly delighted with the whole thing. “Not bad.” Sungyeol’s gaze sharpened, that was the only warning before he blurred into motion, darting around Myungsoo faster than ever as though he haven’t just spent several hours duelling.

 

             Myungsoo yelped, his sword falling onto the poop deck with a clatter as the blunt side of Sungyeol’s sword slammed into his wrist, sending a dull spasm of pain firing up his arm straight to the shoulder. He rolled to the side as Sungyeol’s sword swung towards him, nearly cutting his ribs open. Myungsoo scrambled up as fast as he could without tripping over his own feet, hastily grabbing his sword and leaping away as another vicious swipe came. Sungyeol didn’t pause, blow after blow in a relentless attack that Myungsoo gave up on retaliating and settled for defending. He swung his sword up, blocking a slash that was two inches from drawing a perfect line of symmetry down his face.

 

             Sunlight glinted off the blade of the sword and into the captain’s eyes. Sungyeol grinned, pushing down his sword against Myungsoo’s, a kind of light very different from sunlight burning and shining in a pair of eyes that looked straight at him, crinkling in something that was amused and contemptuous and determined and very, very cold. Myungsoo grunted, straining his arms to push back against the iron of weapon and master edging towards him until his shoulders and arms threatened to seize up in a cramp.

 

             “What the hell are you doing? Stop it!” Sungjong had turned his attention away from the wheel and towards them, hurrying down the steps with uncharacteristic urgency. “Do you seriously want to kill him? Now? Really, when we’re almost there?” his voice was slightly brittle at the edge from the effort of trying to mix casualness and derision over a tension that drew his body tight.

 

             “Why not?” Sungyeol’s voice was bored, like it didn’t matter at all whether the sword cut Myungsoo into two or not. As though Myungsoo was as inconsequential as the waves that almost sank them the other day. “All of us are going to hell anyway, it won’t make a difference who gets there first.” Myungsoo thinks that he really ought to feel scared because the other man looked like he wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon. But there was a glazed look in his eyes and a cynical bitterness to the line of his mouth that told him that Sungyeol was already there.

 

             Behind the captain, Sungjong’s hand twitched at his side, fingers flexing to the handle of his sword. Myungsoo’s arms trembled, sweat beading along his lip as he struggled to keep death at bay. His gaze darted to Sungjong for a second, whose own gaze shifted and roiled behind the ebony lacquer. Myungsoo gasped as Sungyeol abruptly renewed his power, the sword cutting into his forehead. He bent back, foot sliding back to support his shaking body, every ounce of strength poured into not falling not losing not giving up and just not, for once in his life. At the sound of his gasp the shadows flitted and vanished, leaving a void behind. In one smooth motion the sword was drawn, tip pressed to Sungyeol’s nape. “Fine then,” Sungjong’s voice was ice, or maybe marble, because ice wasn’t as hard and unforgiving like stone was. Or the look in Sungjong’s eyes. “Go to hell.”

 

             The tip pressed forward – Myungsoo saw in a split second something akin to joy, an overwhelming, explosive emotion that was something like entertainment and pleasant surprise overlaid with a relief that softened Sungyeol’s smile and stabbed at his heart like a sword – Sungjong’s soul already there and waiting for Sungyeol’s – and he finally let go, releasing himself to fall back onto the deck with one sword flying away from his hands and another towards him. Afterwards was the kind of moment where we reach a state of hyper-alertness and everything becomes clear as a still painting and it feels like you’re finally alive, and it’s so ironic because these are usually the times when you’re about to die. Myungsoo watches the emotions vanish into ridiculously human shock, souls reanimating into mortal bodies and horror tearing away from their restraints to leap across faces. His back hits the floor painfully, head slamming so hard against the wood it was a sound that burst in his consciousness and yeah, he definitely cracked his head open this time and Sunggyu will _kill_ Woohyun, or probably lose his shit and rip everyone apart to pour their blood over Myungsoo as some kind of unholy sacrifice. So much for having a thick skull. The last thing he felt was regret, but he was gone before he could find out where it came from.

 

__________________________

 

             Sunggyu stood, straight-backed, arms crossed and gaze fixed on the horizon of the sapphire sea. The world could detonate and he probably wouldn’t even realise. Nothing really felt real to him, it was as though part of his consciousness had left until he could feel everything and feel nothing. His breaths came in even puffs through his nostrils, heart pounding away calmly and clock ticking methodically away in the room or in his head, a constant static overlaying his mind like white noise. A while later, it could have been hours or minutes or even days, Sunggyu wouldn’t know and couldn’t care because he can’t figure out for the life of himself ~~(Alive? He knows he is, always have been, but the idea of it now is so absurd and foreign he could have been dead all his life)~~ what to care or think or do right now, a noise from rusted hinges sounded in the room. A warm hand wrapped around his arm and in a vague part of his mind he knows that at any other time this hand would be broken or detached from the body and lying in a pool of blood on the floor. At some other time perhaps, when Kim Sunggyu was involved. A certain Kim Sunggyu that was foggy and indistinct because in this moment he’s so disconnected and _gone_ it was as though his soul had ceased to exist in a body of flesh and blood that haven’t broken down to atoms yet.

 

             He lets the hand tug him towards the door, eyes and mind of his host dispassionately noting that it was Dongwoo pulling him along with unusual gentleness. He pauses at the door, a bit of awareness trickling back in the form of an intense confusion because where is he supposed to go now? His body is tense and impatient with the total absence of any drive, but where is he supposed to go from here? “C’mon Sunggyu,” Dongwoo says quietly from beside him, eyes grave and a little weary, “Let’s get a drink.”

 

             Sunggyu (is that his name? It doesn’t feel like him) allows himself to be guided to a table, lifting a jug to his lips and letting the liquid flow into his mouth with a bit of his soul. The alcohol burns him, lifting some of the haze that cottoned him to the world. He signals for another jug, downing in quickly and reaching for another one. Dongwoo continues to watch him silently as Sunggyu swallowed cup after cup, trying to quench the trembling starting from deep in his core and threatening to spread to the rest of him. He finally gives up, hand shaking as the jug thumps down loudly on the table without his own volition. The haze had fully lifted now, unforgivingly pushing him back into consciousness. “Fuck,” even his _voice_ was shaking, for God’s sake, the word falling from lips that quivered.

 

             “Yeah, fuck is the right word.” Dongwoo exhaled through his nose noisily, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair to look at Sunggyu with something like pity. “You’ve fucked up more times than I can recall since we first met, but this is…” his hands waved in the air helplessly as though trying to visually convey the magnitude of it all.

 

             Sunggyu swallows, he’s not really ready to confront this yet. He licks his lips, ignoring the little voice in his head that snidely noted how cowardice is pretty much the root of all his screw-ups. He’ll deal with that too. Later. He can’t face the shame of that right now, he just can’t. So he starts with the easiest. “How did you know. Where...what.” The sentence comes out disjointed and incoherent, but Dongwoo understands anyway. He always understood more than everyone else.

 

             “I saw Woohyun.” He replied simply. The sound of the name pierced, a cruel little thing that stuck in and twisted. Dongwoo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What did you do to him Sunggyu?”

 

             It hit him, like a cannon into his ship, the realization of what he did to him, not just anyone, but _Woohyun_. He closes his eyes, falling forward too, the heels of his hands digging into his eye sockets and sending sparks shattering behind his eyelids. “Tell me, Sunggyu.” Dongwoo’s voice was commanding, demanding to know. He wants to shake his head, to say that it doesn’t matter and turn away, but he pushes the thought away, forcing himself to recount what happened. Every word he spat at Woohyun a poisonous vapour in the air between them, ugly and disgusting. Dongwoo made a strangled sound halfway in between a scream and a growl, slamming his hand on his table when Sunggyu finished. The captain looks up, wryly noting in a part of his brain that was still functioning that Dongwoo is reacting exactly like he thought he would, down to his current expression.

 

             “Goddamn it, Kim Sunggyu!” Dongwoo looked like he was ready to leap over the table and punch him, ranking be damned. “I knew you were a selfish ass but this really demolishes all my expectations.”

 

             “What was I supposed to think?” he lashed back, hands coming up to grip the edge of the table. “Myungsoo just vanished overnight without so much as a letter, to fucking _Sungyeol_ of all people and I have no idea where they went or what they were going to do!”

 

             “WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU ASK THEN?” Dongwoo had jumped to his feet, not bothering to control his volume anymore and gaining looks of interest from other patrons of the bar, no doubt anticipating a fist fight. The other pirate looked like he was ready to expire on the spot with frustration. “Is it so hard to ask for help, just once in your life, or maybe to have a bit of faith in other people? Do you think that Woohyun, or Myungsoo, or even me would do anything without a reason? If this is what you think of me then I’m honestly disappointed in you.”

 

             Sunggyu subsided, scowling. The word pricked at his conscience and with a flash of guilt he remembered how Dongwoo kept trying to talk to him over the past few weeks, a conversation that Sunggyu shut down before he could open his mouth, so sure of what he assumed that he didn’t bother with thinking about anything else. “Why do you always have to assume the worst of people?” Dongwoo was still talking down to him, clearly too agitated to sit down.

 

             His head jerked up, eyes flashing, “Because the worst is always what we get.” Sunggyu got up too, the few inches he had on Dongwoo steadying him somewhat. “It’s a disgusting, filthy world we live in. Everything comes with a price and everyone comes with half a mind to fuck you over if it benefits them, whether or not they realise it. This,” he swipes a hand down between the two of them, gesturing to them both, “Do you think that I became a pirate because I wanted to rob and kill? Do you think Myungsoo became a pirate so he could go around figuring out the cleanest way to cut someone else’s head off?” Sunggyu ran a hand through his hair, “One moment of illusion, and we end up jumping into a path completely different from what we imagined. And the suckiest part is that we don’t really have a choice to turn back or not, because we have nothing to turn back to.”

 

             “The world doesn’t always give the choices we want.” Sunggyu said quietly, “And sometimes they don’t end up what they said they would be. I want to give Myungsoo his, because now I can do that for him.”

 

             Dongwoo still didn’t look very satisfied with the explanation. He pursed his lips, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Look, I get you. We’ve been through shit and I don’t want that kitten to be hurt either, especially because we can do something to stop that. But Myungsoo’s not stupid, and don’t tell me otherwise because you sure as hell know that. Myungsoo’s smart, and hardworking and strong and he can be so fucking much if you’ll just let him.” Dongwoo’s voice dropped to a pleading tone. “This is his chance to get over the walls both he and you built around him. Either he gets past it and becomes a captain you will be so fucking proud of, or he doesn’t and comes back ruined forever. But just let him try.”

 

             Sunggyu bites his lip, blindly reaching for the jug of ale and brought it to his lips, needing the alcohol to calm him down. He hisses when he finds it empty and slams down the cup. “It’s not like I have a choice anyway,” he said resignedly, “I don’t even know where the hell they are now. And I bet none of us here knows.” Dongwoo smiled sheepishly, looking like he hadn’t thought about that either when he sneaked Myungsoo away.

 

             “Well there’s still Woohyun.” Dongwoo offers after a few seconds.

 

             “What about him?” Sunggyu replies, avoiding his gaze. He glares at the dartboard across the room, half-wishing he could burn it up with his eyes if it means releasing some of the angst stocked up in him like gunpowder in the magazine of his ship. “And don’t give me a lecture, I’m done for the day.”

 

             The pirate ignores him, striding around the table to grab Sunggyu’s shoulders and yank him down to fix him with a piercing look. “Just stop hurting him, Sunggyu.” He said simply.

 

             He pulls out of Dongwoo’s grip, sitting back down and slumping back. Sunggyu lets his head fall back to rest on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Fuck, he misses Woohyun already. If this wasn’t reality, he would be running after the other, pulling him into his arms and hugging him so tight that his wrists broke but it would be okay as long as he could make Woohyun stop hurting, and he would break every bone in his body if it meant that he could take back all the pain he inflicted on Woohyun. Sunggyu wishes that the other was here with him right now, so he could hold his face in between his hands and push the hair away from dark eyes that looked at him with so much pain but wouldn’t look at anything else anyway, no matter how much it hurt, cradling the head to his chest and pressing his nose to the crown of his head with all the words that he could never bring himself to say.

 

             If only.

 

             “I can’t let Myungsoo go.” Sunggyu finally says. He didn’t need to raise his head to guess the expression on Dongwoo’s face. He probably expected this answer. A pause, and then, “Find him. Please.”

 

             Dongwoo’s hand was warm on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that comforted him more than any rum would. The hand started to leave – and froze. Sunggyu opens his eyes at last, sensing something coming. “Sunggyu.” The voice grated on his ear, annoying and aggravating. The pirate captain straightened up, Dongwoo’s hand falling away along with every ounce of his good temper. Sunggyu narrowed his eyes, refusing to turn around and acknowledge the newcomer. He sensed more than felt Dongwoo’s tension rising as the man approached the table with the deliberate, purposeful steps of a cat.

 

             “Sungyeol gave me this, thought you should have it back.” A rag, shredded and spotted in blood landed on the table. Dongwoo drew in a sharp breath beside him. Sunggyu stared as Captain No Minwoo carelessly tugged at the black shirt, ragged and mended in some places from overuse by a stubborn wearer, at the brown twig edged and smeared with red and covered all over with tiny scars from calluses that broke open and bled over the handle of a sword.


	8. Eighth step

Myungsoo awoke to pain. As usual, but that’s beside the point. The only difference was that instead of a partly worried but mostly livid Sunggyu hovering over him, he woke up to a seagull staring at him. The bird squawked in lieu of a greeting from its perch on the railing of the ship, turning its head to the side and eyeing him with a beady little gaze. Myungsoo bit back a grimace of revulsion, he hates birds.

 

             Almost as though it heard him, the seagull took off with another scornful squawk, making sure to smack him in the face with one white-feathered wing. He hissed after the retreating bird, lifting a hand to rub at his face – and stopped. As the disorientation fell away he realised that he was standing upright, his hands bound together and his body strapped to the same beam that he backed up against during his duel with Sungyeol several hours ago and – wait, Sungyeol. He twisted his head around, groaning when a pounding pain flared from the back of his head, stabbing into the back of his eyes and at his temples. His vision went black momentarily, nausea rising in response to the pain, the ropes holding him tight to the beam the only thing keeping him from keeling over. As the nausea fell away a lump of unease grew in his belly as he noted the expert knots keeping him completely immobilised, barely able to do more than take a deep breath without feeling the ropes dig into exposed skin.

 

             “What,” he rasped out finally to no one.

 

             “We’re idiots, that’s what.” Sungjong’s voice, furious and indignant, issued from somewhere on his left. Myungsoo turned his head again, carefully this time, to see the younger in the same position as him, tight to a beam, weaponless and immobilised. “What?” he repeated, struggling to wrap his mind around everything that’s going on. Without bothering to listen to the reply, he groaned, laying his head gently against the wooden beam. The glare of the late afternoon sun burned into his closed eyelids, ridiculously bright and hot in the way all countries near the equator were. “What’s going on?” Myungsoo finally mumbled, keeping his eyes closed and head angled towards the other. “I didn’t die so who ruined my heroic death this time?”

 

             If he had opened his eyes he would have seen Sungjong’s gaze flickering as it lay gently on him.

 

             “You smashed your head on the floor, retard.” The harsh edge of the insult was worn down by the slightly shaky tone of his voice. “Why did you do that?” The trembling became more pronounced, armour straining at breaking seams.

 

             Myungsoo opened his eyes to meet the other’s gaze, still keeping his head propped up by the beam. “Because I didn’t want you two to hurt each other.” He replied honestly, pausing for a moment and frowning slightly, “I didn’t want you to kill Sungyeol.” The words were awkward and unwieldy on his tongue, not quite meaning what he really meant. It was more than him not wanting Sungyeol to die, he didn’t want Sungjong to be the one to kill him, because this isn’t the kind of thing he wants Sungjong to have to do, not ever. Myungsoo doesn’t really know what ever happened between them both to make them so brittle and feral towards each other, but whatever it is it put a bit of what both of them left behind in each other. Myungsoo thinks that he could kind of understand why Sunggyu kept doing things the way he did now.

 

             He doesn’t want Sungjong to die either.

 

             Not completely unexpectedly, Sungjong took his words the exact opposite way from what he intended. The flickering gaze hardened immediately, mouth twisting, “Yeah well, congratu-fucking-lations because thanks to that we’re both in deep shit now.” Sungjong half-turned his head away, “We’ve been betrayed by our damn captain, Myungsoo, and we’re both going to die.”

 

             “What do you mean by that?” The nausea from earlier rose up again and with his head clearer than before he understands that it was his body unconsciously reacting even before he figured out what’s going on. The nausea was a by-product of his gut feeling freaking the hell out. For once he desperately wishes that his instincts weren’t so damn right all the time.

 

             Sungjong turned back to look Myungsoo full in the face, glassy eyes curling at the edges with desperation staring out at him from a face that was not cool, not unruffled, not set with grim determination, but from a face that was ashy and taut with the knowledge of an inescapable damnation digging deep lines into a face that was much too young to be know this expression. “Sungyeol wants to hand us over as hostages to someone who wants _you_ , and I’m the booster.” The ship lurched at a sudden wave, or maybe it was his gut because no, not Sungyeol, he can’t possibly do this, he wouldn’t do this because he’s Sungyeol.

 

             “Oh trust me, he’s perfectly capable of doing this.” Myungsoo glanced at Sungjong, still in a state of half-shock and barely noticing his thoughts spilling into the air. “He’s done this before and fuck!” Myungsoo jumped at the sudden exclamation, eyes widening as Sungjong angrily kicked back at the pillar he was bound to. “How could I have been so stupid _again_?”

 

             “But this doesn’t make sense,” Myungsoo persisted, “This isn’t like him at all and why the hell would he drag us halfway to Venezuela just for this?”

            

             “Do I look like I know?” Sungjong spat back, evidently boiling over with frustration and struggling within his constraints futilely. “I knew I never should have come.” He muttered, twisting his hands within their rope bindings. The door to the captain’s cabins slammed open, they turned around to see Sungyeol striding up to the both of them. He came up to Myungsoo, lifting his chin with the tip of his sword and pushing it this way and that, not looking at him once. “Are you okay?” Myungsoo started to open his mouth, relief washing through him at the question when Sungyeol cut him off, tone callous and disinterested, “Doesn’t matter, I just need you alive anyway.” The stream of hope stopped, freezing and cracking. “What are you doing?” Myungsoo doesn’t recognise his voice, low and even and so devoid of everything that he is and full of the things that Woohyun and Sunggyu carry around in their pockets.

 

             Sungyeol, to his credit, doesn’t show any outward reaction. He flicks his eyes up to Myungsoo, “If I tell you, you’ll run or jump into the sea or something. And make me lose my money.”

 

             “I’m not running anymore,” Myungsoo interrupts, feeling very cold and very calm, “Now tell me exactly what is going on, you fucker.” The sun flashes in Sungyeol’s eyes and he stares at him silently for a moment before lifting his arm, digging the tip of the sword into his throat and drawing beads of blood. “Woohyun and Sungjong had the right idea huh, using you as bait for Sunggyu?” Sungyeol’s mouth twisted into a smirk, “But I don’t give a damn about your brother, at least not in the way Woohyun does. I just want your worth.” Sungyeol drew the sword lightly along the throat, dangerously close to his carotid artery, “Lucky for me your value is pretty high in the market.”

 

             “Does Woohyun know?” Myungsoo asked, twisting his hands within the binds as inconspicuously as possible.

 

             The sword swung down to rest against his right hand. “Do that again and I’ll cut your hand off.” The words were heavy with warning, nothing like the Sungyeol that they had spent weeks with on the ship. Myungsoo flexed his jaw, narrowing his eyes at the other. “I’m kind of disappointed in Woohyun, he’s softened up so much he’s nothing like the pirate captain he was before. I almost feel sorry for him, almost.”

 

             “You do know that you’re going to have two pirate captains after you now, right?” Sungjong finally spoke up from Myungsoo’s left.

 

             “Nope,” Sungyeol stepped back from Myungsoo, sheathing his sword and putting his hands on his hips, moving his gaze between the two of them, a small smile on his lips. “Just one. And he probably wouldn’t be able to keep his sanity long enough to kill me.” Sungyeol’s smile widened, “Funny how love can drive even the cruellest of us insane huh?”

 

             “Talking about yourself?” Myungsoo glanced to the side to see Sungjong leaning his head back against the wooden beam, “You did seem more unhinged than before, but I didn’t think that you loved me _that_ much.” He tilted his head down just enough to look straight at Sungyeol, eyes scornful, “Or maybe you just can’t stand having your property walk away from you. I feel sorry for you, you’re still a loser headed to nowhere.”

 

             Sungyeol’s lips tightened slightly, but that was all he showed. “At least I’m a loser who isn’t pathetic enough to end up in the same situation twice.” Sungyeol took another step back towards the cabin, “Hey Myungsoo,” Sungyeol spoke without taking his eyes off Sungjong, “Did Sungjong ever tell you how he knew me?”

 

             “You told me before,” Myungsoo replied unsurely, feeling like the entire conversation just rolled completely off track.

 

             “But did he tell you?” Sungyeol pressed, eyes bright with malice as they watched the tension growing in the youngest pirate. “About how his bed and food came from being fucked on strangers’ bed or from eating their cocks? Or,” Sungyeol continued, clearly relishing every word, “About how he left the house I gave him when he decided that I was below him, and he wanted to stand by himself instead of getting help from a loser like me?” Sungyeol paused, drawing it out and watching Sungjong’s breaths come out more and more unevenly, “Did he ever tell you about how pathetic he was before me?”

 

             “I am going to put my sword right through that filthy mouth of yours, Lee Sungyeol,” Sungjong’s voice was ragged and dark, breathless with a vehemence that made goosebumps rise along Myungsoo’s arms, “Just you wait.”

 

             Sungyeol laughed loudly, throwing his head back and exposing his throat deliberately, almost mockingly. “That was what you said _years_ ago, and look where you are now. You think I haven’t seen how you look at him?” The captain jerked his chin towards Myungsoo, “Woohyun wouldn’t have been able to make you come if you didn’t want to.” Sungyeol started to walk backwards towards his cabin, “You’re still that piece of useless shit I picked up on the streets, that much isn’t going to change.”

 

             The slam of the door sounded unusually loud to Myungsoo’s dazed mind and he let out a breath, renewing his efforts to wriggle his hands free of the ropes. Next to him Sungjong sagged down within his bindings, head bowed so far down his chin almost reached his chest. Myungsoo leaned his head against the beam, watching him wearily. “Sungjong?” he called out softly.

 

             Sungjong didn’t reply, and the silence stretched on like the darkness creeping over the sky.

 

__________________________

 

             When Myungsoo woke up, it was still dark. He stretched his aching and tired body within the ropes, twisting out the cramps and testing out how far the ropes can stretch. He glanced over at Sungjong, not really surprised to see him wide awake and staring out into the endless horizon of the sea blankly. Myungsoo watched him quietly, not saying a word, hands twisting in their bindings automatically by now.

 

             He thinks he could get why Sungjong despised him so much at the start, it must have chafed at him, being reminded of how he was like before meeting the man who made him and broke him up again. He thinks about all the times when Sungjong yelled at him for not being able to fight, for being too soft and for not hiding the things that he should be hiding, and even that time when Myungsoo thanked him for being all the things that he didn’t want to be. He thinks about all of that, and about how sad it is that the world is filled with the same people who tried to be someone else because they scared themselves with the people they created, and in a little corner of his mind he thinks that he could understand what Sungjong meant that night. It was Sungjong’s way of giving in to the person he couldn’t completely kill, for the first time in a long while and the last time forever.

 

             “You’re not pathetic, not at all.” Myungsoo broke the silence. He hissed as the ropes broke through skin and blood started to drip and bleed over the ropes. Myungsoo curses to himself quietly, doubling his efforts and praying that Sungyeol wouldn’t notice his attempts to escape. Sungyeol had done an unfortunately good job at tying the knots, they wouldn’t budge no matter how much he wriggled. The blood was pouring down more readily now, joining the small puddle on the floor. Myungsoo ignored the pain, he would rub the flesh right off his bones if it meant shrinking his wrists and letting him escape. “Stop it,” Sungjong said, “It’s not going to work.”

 

             Myungsoo didn’t reply, stubbornly refusing to give up. It wasn’t until the sun was starting to peek across the horizon when Sungjong spoke again, voice barely audible above the constant sound of the waves. “You’re not either, you know, not at all.” Sungjong turned his head to watch him struggle, dark eyes pensive and a bit like a pair of eyes that stared at him through the rain. Myungsoo couldn’t tell whether it was the sun or moon that was shining in his eyes. Sungjong smiled a bit, a little bitter and a little resigned and a lot like the Sungyeol who had tried to kill himself when he pressed the sword into Myungsoo’s forehead. “You didn’t have to, we’re there already. But I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you.”

 

             Myungsoo wanted to smile back, or to say something, but he couldn’t push the words past the heavy understanding clogging in his throat. The sun was peeking over the horizon now, shining its hot rays on the skin of his face and into his eyes. Sungjong’s lips quirked up further when Myungsoo squinted, turning his face away from them both.

 

             Sungyeol didn’t glance at either of them when he finally emerged from his cabin, striding towards the wheel and only moving from his post to raise the sails occasionally or grab a bottle of rum, which he drank with reckless abandon. No wonder he chose a cog ship, he was probably preparing for a one-man crew right from the start. As the sun moved towards the centre of the sky the dull throbbing at the back of his head swelled to a headache that felt as though there were clamps on either side of his head, squeezing hard enough to make him nauseous. He groaned quietly, closing his eyes and trying to block out the sun. His whole body was burning from the glare of the sunshine and his throat was parched and aching. A few minutes later the cool lip of a rum bottle was pressed to his lips and he swallowed gratefully, glad of the burn of the alcohol for once. He opened his eyes a slit when the bottle was taken away, watching Sungyeol do the same to Sungjong before going back to his post.

 

             It was around dusk when the perfect line of the horizon was broken by a shadow that lengthened and grew into the first sight of land in weeks. As they approached, the shadowy silhouette expanded into a stretch of waving palm trees lining the snowy, deserted shore, an unbroken wall of greenery that rose up high above their heads. Sungyeol steered the ship carefully past the huge rocks jutting out of the water to a spot not too far from the shore, close to a larger pirate ship docked a distance away. The anchor was dropped with a splash and the ropes finally, finally, fell away from his torso. Sungyeol rewound the ropes around his wrists and with an unpleasant shock of humiliation Myungsoo recognised them to be a leash.

 

             “Sungyeol.” Myungsoo said, as the captain tightened the knots and tugged on them. “Sungyeol,” he repeated, louder this time.                                                

 

             “What?” Sungyeol answered, looking up at him and sounding aggrieved, “Don’t you know any other words?” He shook the hair out from his eyes, making an exasperated sound when the wind blew them into his face again.

 

             “Stop doing this,” Myungsoo tried to sound forceful but it came out pleading instead. He wriggled his hands around, yanking on the leash. Sungyeol’s hand, large and long-fingered and strong, came down around his wrists, halting his movements. He turned Myungsoo’s hands over, the scabs and wounds bleeding afresh with the pressure. “I’m going to let this go because we’re already here and I don’t want to do anything that’ll reduce your worth.”

 

             “You make it sound like you’re desperate for money.” Sungjong said contemptuously, façade wiped clean in seconds.

 

             “I gambled them off,” Sungyeol replied without missing a beat, “It’s too bad you weren’t around then, you would have come in useful.” It was a low blow, but it didn’t seem like Sungyeol cared anymore. He moved over to Sungjong, dragging Myungsoo along by the leash and linking them with the rope. It was a mark of how helpless they are that Sungyeol had no qualms with turning his back to them and tugging them to the tiny jolly boat rigged to the side of the ship, shoving them in. The jolly boat hit the shore with a muffled thud and Sungyeol pushed them ahead of him, walking towards the other pirate ship.

 

             The ship was a beast of wood and ropes compared to the one that they spent weeks on. And now they’re being herded to it like cattle. Myungsoo tried not to feel too humiliated. Sungyeol whistled, the sharp sound cutting over the sound of the wind and waves easily. A face appeared over the railings near the prow, tiny and barely visible. Sungyeol lifted the rope tying them to him, waving one hand furiously. The head nodded, and disappeared. Moments later another head appeared, adorned with a pirate hat this time. He motioned for them to come to the ship, at which Sungyeol shook his head, replying with insistent hand motions for them to come to him. The arms fell to the side as the captain stared at them with what Myungsoo imagined was exasperation. Sungyeol grinned happily, waving again furiously.

 

             The figure threw his hands up, making a motion to wait. A jolly boat, weighed down with dark crates and tied to another empty one, appeared over the side of the ship and descended towards the water, manned only by the captain. “So,” Sungyeol said, turning back to them as the boat made its way towards them. “This is where we part, don’t miss me too much.” Sungjong didn’t dignify him with a response, looking away from him at the frothy waves fixedly. Myungsoo kept his eyes on him, trying to find a little bit of the loud, reckless captain who didn’t want to take him on, who never said or did anything that made sense or lacked a reason, and who was looking right back at him with the same eyes that stayed shadowed in alcohol, rain and sun. As he stared the shadow fractured and the gaze darted away quickly.

 

             As the boat drew close to the shore Sungyeol stepped forward to adjust the ropes on their wrists, pausing in front of Myungsoo. He lifted his eyes and looked at him again for a moment then. With a tug on the rope Sungyeol’s hand brushed his waist lightly and the long fingers were suddenly there, tilting his chin up and Sungyeol’s breath left its print on his lips. The hand dropped away, gaze flickering and intense and unwavering even when Sungjong drew in a sharp breath next to them, only closing shut when the sound of heavy boots approached them. Sungyeol turned to face the captain with a boisterous greeting as Myungsoo blinked, scarcely having time to note Sungjong’s ashy, thunderstruck expression before the new captain’s attention fell on them.

 

             “I don’t recall our deal including this,” The other captain said, voice low and cold, or maybe that was just his normal behaviour. Myungsoo immediately hated him. Sungyeol shrugged, lifting a shoulder carelessly. “Take it as a free gift, I didn’t expect him either.”

 

             “What use is he to me?” The captain scoffed, seizing Sungjong’s chin and twisting it this way and that. Sungjong yanked his chin away with a growl, glaring at him.

 

             “He was Woohyun’s sail master, so he can’t be that useless. Anyway we all know how you have a thing for pretty faces.” Sungyeol replied, hand on his sword scabbard. “So where’s the money?”

 

             The captain rolled his eyes, moving over to the crates and opening one of them to reveal bars of gold stacked inside. “There you go, happy now?” Sungyeol moved over, picking up one of the gold bars and scuffing the surface lightly with a fingernail, smiling in satisfaction when a flake fell off.

 

             “You’re really something, No Minwoo, where did you even get these?” Sungyeol asked turning the bar over in his hands and dropping it back into the crate.

 

             No Minwoo smirked, looking pleased at his reaction, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He clapped his hands together, “Well, it was nice dealing with you, I’ll take my leave now.” He took the rope from Sungyeol’s hands, tugging them toward the empty jolly boat. Something passed over Sungyeol’s face and for a moment it looked like he was about to say something but the rope fell away from his hands limply. As they passed him Myungsoo saw Sungjong bump his shoulder into Sungyeol’s as hard as he could.

 

             Minwoo studied them both silently, gaze lingering on Sungjong’s straight-backed, rigid figure, eyes no doubt fierce enough to kill. Myungsoo ignored them both, twisting his head back to watch Sungyeol’s motionless figure, oddly lonely on the retreating empty shore as they rowed away. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he turned back slowly, the weight of Sungyeol’s battered heart heavy and wickedly sharp in the waistband of his pants.


	9. Ninth step

Myungsoo grunted, purposefully stumbling on the side that didn’t carry the weight of his hope. If he drops it now he will throw himself right off the ship, never mind that the waters are too shallow for him to drown in and they could probably fish him right back up. Maybe he can jump far enough and dash his empty head against the huge rock. They can fish up his dead body for all he cared.

 

             Sungjong cursed loudly at the captain (and probably to the world, but what’s new there?) as he was dragged out of the jolly boat alongside Myungsoo and shoved towards the middle of the poop deck. Without warning, Minwoo’s fist swung out like a flash and Sungjong’s head flew to the side. Myungsoo watched with wide eyes, momentarily forgetting about everything and completely focused on the younger who turned his head back slowly, lips starting to bleed as he glared at the captain with a fury that could rival Sunggyu’s when he was in the right mood. “Unlike Myungsoo here, I don’t need you alive and well.” Minwoo informed him coldly, “But Woohyun would want his sail master back and that’s the only reason why you’re alive now.” He tilted his head, giving them both that assessing once-over again, and a cunning glint stole into his eyes, “Then again he probably wouldn’t be that fussed if we played with you a bit.”

 

             At his signal, several of the crew stepped forward towards Sungjong, their hungry gazes predatory as they ran over Sungjong, a few lingering on Myungsoo. Panic started to bubble up inside him as he desperately racked his head for something that could save the younger. To his side, Sungjong’s face drained of colour, hearing the implication loud and clear. He may be a good fighter but even Sunggyu wouldn’t stand a chance against this many while he was tied up and weaponless. Someone grabbed him from behind, dragging him towards a mast and starting to secure him with ropes while the others reached Sungjong and began the process of taming a snarling, spitting and surprisingly resourceful Sungjong.

 

             “Is that why you took me?” Myungsoo finally yelled in desperation, panic overflowing him like a volcano, no longer caring what came out of his mouth as long as he could distract them from Sungjong. Minwoo’s head snapped to eye him quizzically, and he grabbed his chance. “To…what? Wager a deal with my brother or something? You can’t even kidnap me from him directly.” Myungsoo laughed mockingly when he saw that he had successfully captured the captain’s – and everyone’s by default – attention. His mouth ran on autopilot, piecing things together before he even figured them out in his head. “Wait, can’t or won’t?” Myungsoo continued egging him on as the captain started towards him, eyes narrowed and livid as the rest of the crew slowed down in what they were doing to watch the two warily, even the ones holding Sungjong. “You just don’t have the balls to face my brother, you bastard.”

 

             And there it was, the one thing no self-respecting pirate can ever stand to hear (Myungsoo excluded) yelled to their faces in front of the entire crew.

 

             Minwoo slid his sword out from the sheath in one smooth movement, holding it to Myungsoo’s throat and pressing against his windpipe, adding to his colourful collection of attempts made on his life. “I don’t know if you know this, considering your lousy reputation,” Minwoo said conversationally even though the sneer was anything but friendly, “But in my experience it’s perfectly possible to cut your throat open right now and shut you up without killing you. Where’s _your_ brother now to save your ass?”

 

             Myungsoo laughed right into his face. A tiny, distant voice Myungsoo vaguely recognised as his sense of danger screamed at him to come back and pick him up from where he left the other on the shores of his lost sanity. And of course Myungsoo ignored him, heartlessly leaving him to die as he walked off over the foaming waves. “That’s stupid, because you’re using me to save your ass _from_ my brother, you moron.” He can’t say that he didn’t expect the dizzying blow to his head that forced the nausea up again. Then again he was shit at verbal sparring and it wasn’t even that good of a comeback, so it was a little mystery why Minwoo got so mad anyway.

 

             “Is that the best you have?” Myungsoo continued derisively, completely immersed in his acting and pretending like his head didn’t feel like it was going to fall off and roll across the deck. Myungsoo curled his lip in contempt, loving the rage building up in the captain’s face. Oh god, he was going to _hell_ for this. He learnt from the best after all. “No wonder you had to sneak behind so many others just to get to my brother, you barnacle – ” Another blow cut off his admittedly childish insult, and his vision went black for a moment. Damn, that _hurt_.

 

             “Throw him into the hold,” Minwoo snapped, staring daggers into Myungsoo, who happily made use of his many years of experience and stared back in the most offensive way he could think of. “I don’t want to see his face.”

 

             “What about this one?” One of the brutes holding Sungjong asked, shaking the younger who suddenly appeared much too small and fragile for Myungsoo’s liking, “Do we still get to – ” He shut up when Minwoo whirled around with a dangerous look on his face. “Throw him into the hold.” He finished meekly. Myungsoo mentally knighted himself with his missing sword, laughing manically in triumph.

 

             The wooden wall greeted the back of Myungsoo’s head enthusiastically as they fell back into the comfort of Myungsoo’s old friend. Hello there darkness, it’s been a while. The steel bars slammed in place, locking them in the pit of damp and decay. Myungsoo didn’t move from his position by the wall, letting the dizziness and exhaustion wash over him now that the asshole wasn’t around. He drew his knees up to his chest, resting his heavy head on them and closing his eyes.

 

             Sungjong crawled up next to him, the younger’s body giving off a comforting warmth in the chilly damp of the hold. “Are you going to die?” Sungjong asked bluntly, encouraging as always. Myungsoo shook his head a little, mumbling into his knees, “I am not going to die. Not now, not before I get us out of this mess.”

 

             There was a silence next to him for a moment before he continued, still addressing his left knee, “I’m sorry. I keep making trouble for everyone, don’t I, whenever I try to help? But I’ll get you out of this, because it’s my fault that you got dragged in.” An abrupt ringing in his ears sent a fresh wave of dizziness over him and he fell forward, dry-heaving. “Myungsoo? Myungsoo!” Sungjong’s voice was panicked, hands holding his shoulders and rubbing his back. “Shit, I think you need a doctor. Or someone. Damn it, why did you have to go and butt in?!” He fell to his side, away from whatever crap his stomach threw out of his mouth, not in the right state of mind to care about what he was lying against. “This sucks.” Myungsoo muttered to himself absently, curling up on himself at a sudden chill and feebly slapping away the Grim Reaper’s non-existent face away from him. Is he really going to die? Shit, he can’t now, not with Sungjong’s and his brother’s lives potentially strapped to Sungyeol’s heart still nestled at the waistband of his pants.

 

             “C’mon,” Sungjong grunted, tugging Myungsoo’s arm over his shoulder and basically dragging him to the other side of the cell. The other was probably feeling the fatigue of exhaustion and malnourishment, his motions slower and heavier than before. The two of them collapsed in a slightly drier patch of the cell, Sungjong leaning into the corner and pulling Myungsoo up to cradle his head in his lap. “I don’t know anything about first aid, but don’t die okay?” Sungjong demanded as though he could will Myungsoo into magically coming back to his senses. Even in his current state, Myungsoo almost snorted. The younger’s fingers combed through his hair and away from his face, more in agitation than comfort. Somewhere in his chest his heart was probably doing somersaults and backflips at the hopeful resurrection of his long-dead love life, but the rest of him was in too much of a haze to notice it much. Myungsoo instinctively snuggled into the other’s tummy, completely forgetting who it was. He sighed a bit in contentment, finding it warm and firm and a little soft and overall a really pleasant pillow to snuggle in. He missed his pillow too. The one on the Rosalind, not the shitty one on their shitty ex-captain’s shitty ship.

 

            The hand halted in his hair, clearly taken aback before hesitantly starting over again. “Sleep for a while,” Sungjong’s voice was gruff, or as close to gruff as he could be, with that pretty voice. Myungsoo vaguely thought that maybe the (multiple) blows to his head really is making him a bit loopy, because there is no way Lee Sungjong is cuddling him like Sunggyu would and being unnervingly nice and basically everything that is the antonym of his name. “You better not die or I’ll throw your body overboard. I’m not sharing a cell with a corpse.” Ah well, it was nice while it lasted.

 

              Myungsoo shifted himself into a more comfortable position, readily falling back into his favourite black hole. The jagged edges of Sungyeol’s heart dug into his skin, a surprisingly comforting pressure even though he still wasn’t quite sure what he should do with it. He just prays that he’ll think of something when he wakes up. Maybe. If he wakes up.

 

             Minwoo must have been splitting at the seams with confidence at their inability to escape, because in the next few weeks the only crew they saw was the one who came by once a day to toss them dried bread or meat and occasionally a bottle of rum. Sungjong spent most of his time alternating between ambitiously looking for a way to escape and sitting in a corner glaring at a spot outside their cell with spine-chilling rage. Myungsoo spent most of his time snuggled in Sungjong’s lap and trying to sleep off what he diagnosed as a hopefully minor concussion.

 

             “Where do you think we’re headed to?” Sungjong asked one day, his voice a bit hoarse from disuse. Myungsoo thought for a while before replying, “Well I’m assuming Minwoo knows where Sunggyu is, and where Woohyun is you’ll find Sunggyu. So I’m guessing Tortuga.”

 

             The younger opened his mouth and closed it again, snorting, “Right. For one second there I completely forgot how pathetically obsessed my captain is. He wouldn’t be able to stand your brother freaking the hell out without doing anything, especially if he was the cause of it.”

 

             Myungsoo’s lips quirked up, “Are we talking about the same Nam Woohyun here?”

 

             Sungjong grinned back, the two of them finding comradeship through a mutual enemy. “How do you think you ended up here? He doesn’t give a damn about you, but your brother does, and that’s all the reason he needs to send you on this ridiculous trip.” Myungsoo laughed a bit before remembering _his_ reason on coming for this trip and sobering up quickly. Now that he thinks about it, maybe he still isn’t that great at being the pirate that he wanted to be, still isn’t that great at being heartlessly cutting people down and looking out for himself. And maybe that’s a pirate that he will never become, because that just isn’t how he’s wired and Sunggyu doesn’t need that when he’s already doing fine for the two of them anyway.

 

             He shifted in place, feeling the ever-present edge digging into the skin of his waist and absentmindedly twisting his hands in bindings that shifted on his wrists. But the past months have seen him doing stuff that made him a little bit different from the Kim Myungsoo who defiantly sneaked off his brother’s ship, and a little bit more like the Kim Myungsoo that he is now, a little bit more like the pirate that he needs to be, not the one he thinks he has to be.

 

             And that is all he needs to know exactly what he should do next.

 

             Myungsoo gets up, tottering over to the single porthole of their cell and looking out. The sky was a deep indigo, sparkling and beautiful and a mirror to the more worldly sky they sailed in. He stuck his head out and turned his face towards the sky, ignoring Sungjong kindly informing him that “Your fat ass isn’t going to fit through that porthole, so don’t bother trying to drown yourself.” Myungsoo twisted his head around, breathing in the salty, heavy smell of the sea and searching for the North star. He pulled his head back, experiencing s brief moment of panic when his head got stuck momentarily in the porthole.

 

             “We’re probably going to reach Tortuga in a few days.” Myungsoo said aloud after finishing his mental calculations. Sungjong raised his eyebrows at his words, “That fast? We took weeks to reach that place, and that was with the hurricane.”

 

             “We’re going in the direction of the trade winds,” Myungsoo explained, “Remember? The one Sungyeol had to take the long route around?” The younger’s eyebrows went up even higher in distinct surprise but he didn’t comment, merely nodding and leaning back to a more comfortable position for the night, rolling stiff shoulders.

 

             He sat down opposite the younger, twisting his own aching shoulders too. “Wait,” Sungjong’s voice was sharp, “What happened to your bindings?” Myungsoo looked up to see Sungjong staring fixedly at the twisted loops on his wrists, loops that wouldn’t twist if they were as taut as the ones on Sungjong’s. “Did you seriously manage to wriggle them off?” The younger pirate’s voice was caught in between disbelief and amazement.

 

             Myungsoo fidgeted a bit and avoided eye contact, mumbling, “Sungyeol loosened them for me.”

 

             The younger pirate stared at him for a few moments more, not comprehending, “What?” he finally got out.

 

             He lifted his gaze, meeting Sungjong’s one head-on. “On the beach, before Minwoo reached us, when Sungyeol, you know – ” he broke off, his neck growing a bit warm, “When he _kissed_ me, well it wasn’t exactly a kiss because he was – ” he stopped again, not really wanting to say what had been breathed against his lips as though they would collapse into dust motes if he did. Sungyeol’s heart was made of ashes after all, but ashes were made of the same stuff as stardust. Perhaps Sungyeol, for all his attempts to drive himself further into the ruin he believed he was destined for, wasn’t completely without hope of salvation.

 

             Myungsoo bit his lip, looking up at Sungjong’s blank face from under his eyelashes warily, “I might have a way to get us out of this, but we’ll have to wait a few days.” He paused, “And you have to trust me.” The silence that fell over the cell was ominous and Sungjong’s eyebrows were pulled together but he didn’t look mad, more like he was thinking deeply. “Why?” Sungjong finally said.

 

             Ouch. “It’s our only chance, and I won’t – or at least I’ll try – not to mess it up this time and – ”

 

             “Not that.” Sungjong interrupted, and a small part of him glowed with pride that Sungjong seemed to believe in his abilities enough to trust him on this. Long fingers tangled with each other in his lap, the only sign of what the younger was feeling. “I mean, why? Why did he _do_ that?” Sungjong sounded perplexed, like he was trying and failing to figure out how Sungyeol’s mind worked and how the pieces of himself fit.

 

             There were so many layers to that question, just as much as Sungyeol. Myungsoo kind of gets it, he knows what it’s like to have so many pieces (the parts that were already there or the ones you made, is there really any difference?) chafing and bleeding into each other and breaking at parts where they wouldn’t fit but you still wouldn’t let them go. He knows the answer, figured it out from the moment Sungyeol made his decision weeks and weeks ago during the storm but never knew whether he would act on it or not, but he doesn’t know whether it was an answer that should take a form.  So instead he shrugged, looking down, “The same reason why you said that to me that night, I guess.”

 

             It wasn’t really an answer that made sense to that question, but the look in Sungjong’s eyes told him that the younger was starting to get it. They were cut from the same wood anyway. Myungsoo took a deep breath, “Do you think you can do it? Trust…me?”

 

             Sungjong’s answer was instantaneous, but no less unexpected, “I already do.” Realization clicked in his face and for a moment he looked embarrassed before he wiped it away again. Myungsoo dimpled at the other, the first genuine smile in a while. He lay down and turned his back to the other, getting ready to settle down for the night. A rustling sound, and Sungjong’s warmth was pressed up at his back. Myungsoo remained still, not saying a word, not moving, not needing to hear an answer to a question that has no form.

 


	10. Tenth step

The familiar shape of Tortuga made his heart clench as it rose up from the deep blue, starting from the peaks of the hills and thin lines expanding and thickening along the horizon to reveal the pirate port. Myungsoo takes a deep inhale, the heavy salt comforting in its smell and sting. It doesn’t make sense, but Myungsoo swears that the seas smell differently depending on where they are on the globe. The warm, damp salt of the tropics, always a little heavy; the sparse coldness of the Atlantic and the pure essence of the waters at the edge of the world – all different, but also alike somehow, like the faces drawn on Sungyeol’s heart.

 

             He leaned his head on the edge of the porthole, watching the details morph into clarity upon a green mass. Neither of them had said a word for several hours, feeling the approach of their destination with an instinct that grows from dancing on water for so long. But while Sungjong’s silence had been from tension, Myungsoo was simply scared. Not afraid, not exactly that, but just the kind of feeling that clogs up your chest when you have so much to lose and only one shot and you know that you absolutely cannot fail and you don’t even want to try because you’re just so scared but you _can’t and won’t give up_. Myungsoo pulled his head back in, wriggling a little to get his head through the porthole.

 

             “What are you going to do?” Sungjong asked, shifting in his position in the corner of the room.

 

             Myungsoo tugs the rope of his bindings closer to his wrist, concealing the betraying looseness. “We wait.”

 

             “And then what?” Sungjong prompted.

 

             Myungsoo pauses for a moment before answering meekly, “And see?” The answer came out sounding more like a question. “I have a general idea,” he added hastily when Sungjong’s face started to take on a dangerous look. “We don’t know exactly what Minwoo’s going to do, so it’ll be pointless to plan that far. But he’s probably going to bring my brother aboard, and maybe Woohyun, and us too onto the poop deck as bait. As long as we get a weapon to either one of them – since Minwoo wouldn’t be stupid enough to let either of them near him while armed – and jump clear from the rest of the crew, it should turn out all right.”

 

             “There’s a huge, _massive_ , ‘should’ right there.” Sungjong said slowly, drawing out the words for emphasis.

 

             Myungsoo made a small sound of protest, kicking his feet around, “You said that you’ll trust me!” _He’ll_ be trusting his tummy, but Sungjong doesn’t need to know that. Sungjong’s right though, when he said that there’s a huge chance they’re taking there and even Myungsoo isn’t so sure about his half-cooked and slightly suicidal plan. But there’s also a little something pushing him on despite the doubts and fear at the fore of his mind. Blind faith, some would say, but it’s not like they have anything else to lose and Myungsoo had been pushing his luck right from the start of this fiasco anyway, so he might as well just cling on and go all the way.

 

             The younger pirate looked torn, caught in between his promise and his perpetual suspicion.

 

             “Look,” he tried again, “I mean it, I don’t know what I’ll do or what’s going to happen, or what we’ll end up doing, but when the time comes I’ll just know, okay? And when that time comes, I don’t care how, but I swear to God, I will _make it work_.”

 

             Sungjong was silent for a few moments more, conflict clear on his face as Myungsoo waits. “I don’t like this,” Sungjong decided, “I really, really, don’t like this.” He got up, leaning against the wall and kicking his heels back against the wooden floor, pressing his lips together for a few moments before looking up and fixing Myungsoo with a forceful glare. “We should at least have a backup plan,” he insisted, taking a step towards Myungsoo as though trying to physically compel him. “Get a weapon, send for help, loosen the bindings, scope out escape routes…” Sungjong reeled off a list of possibilities, “It would be better than going in with practically _nothing_.”

 

             The last word came out as a frustrated sigh, the closest to desperation that Sungjong was willing to show or admit. Myungsoo stayed silent, full aware of the basis for his confidence in what appeared as a non-existent plan. But if Sungjong knew about the knife stowed away underneath his clothes, slipped in in mere seconds by an equally slippery hand that flashed from the knots on his wrist to his waist while Sungyeol leaned in and whispered the words against his lips – a momentary, but not insignificant, distraction from what he really was doing – then everything will fall to pieces and into the bottom of the ocean like chum. Sungjong would never be able to resist the lure of a weapon, but right now Myungsoo’s plan is hinged entirely on everyone’s tendency to slide their gazes over Myungsoo and to Sungjong when they look for a pirate.

 

             “You called me a pirate,” Myungsoo said, not petulantly, not accusatively but steadily, forcing himself not to swallow in nervousness. “And you said that you would trust me. Can’t you believe me enough for this? I have something,” Myungsoo looks up into Sungjong’s eyes, trying to pour every ounce of the things he wouldn’t, and couldn’t, say into that gaze. “But you need to _let me try_.”

 

             The younger pirate’s face was tight, obviously hating the whole thing. He never did like letting go of the reins and putting his trust in someone else. Myungsoo continued to pierce him with his gaze, silently imploring. After a long while something loosened in his face, like a lever lifting up, and he breathes out through his nose, a long, even breath – and grabs his hand, taking the first step onto the waves.

 

             The ship bumps to a stop at the wharf, and for a while there is the sound of the crew moving back and forth on the decks above and orders being called out. They wait in the shadows, the day a small bright circle on the wooden floor from the porthole.

 

             “What do you think they’re going to do?” Sungjong asked, his voice tentative but demanding, unable to hold back his need to scout out the situation. The uncertainty of everything was probably quietly suffocating him inside.

 

             Myungsoo was almost tempted to ignore the question – he doesn’t know if he could handle facing the uncertainty head-on at this moment – but he tries. “They’ll probably bring us out on deck,” he started, forehead crinkling in thought, “And one way or another Sunggyu will get close enough to see us, and maybe Woohyun too since you’re here. Sunggyu isn’t dumb, he’ll want proof before he does anything at all.”

 

             “It’s not like Woohyun will come anyway.” Sungjong’s voice was low, looking down and fiddling with his bindings. Myungsoo frowned, why wouldn’t Woohyun come? Sungjong’s part of Woohyun’s crew, and if it wasn’t Myungsoo here but some other crew member Sunggyu would still come in a heartbeat, because that’s what their crew does. As he watched Sungjong continue to mess around with his bindings with faux nonchalance, he suddenly remembers what the younger had said before about their crew.

 

             Sometimes Myungsoo forgets how incredibly lucky he is.

 

             He bit his lip, not entirely convinced with the younger’s line of thought. Myungsoo probably knew the poop deck of Woohyun’s ship better than the reclusive captain, but he knows exactly how Woohyun looks at his brother, with all the intensity of the damned and the dead who had known nothing else but smoke and dust. And he doesn’t have it in him to believe that anyone with a heart capable of that kind of emotion could ever pretend that he doesn’t, contrary to what they say. “Why not?” he prodded carefully, wary of triggering a complete shut down from the other.

 

             Sungjong shrugged, a careless motion betrayed only by the stiffness in his shoulders. “I’m replaceable. He wouldn’t bother.”

 

             “You’re not replaceable to me.” Myungsoo retorted before he could stop himself. The younger looked up, startled. “And…Woohyun isn’t like that. You know it too, he’s not an asshole.” Myungsoo paused, “Well, _mostly_.”

 

             That earned him a snort, not a laugh – the situation was a bit too tense for that – but some of the tension went out of his shoulders and that was all Myungsoo needed to pull him back from the edge. He briefly thinks of Sungyeol, and of the heart he left in the knife against his hip, and pictures him standing at the edge, hands folded behind his back, the measured black lines of his face coloured in with emotions in the blank spaces, not quite ready to leap but not ready to pull back either. Sungyeol’s heart, with its jagged and broken lines of penance was, perhaps, pencilled in with desperation after all.

 

             They fall silent after that, even the harried bustle from above slowed down to purposeful steps over the deck. “Hey,” Myungsoo said, staring at the wooden wall opposite their cell, voice almost indistinguishable, “Stay alert later, okay?” He didn’t turn, but he sensed Sungjong’s perplexed frown even as he nodded slowly. “I always am.”

 

             The door to the hold slammed open and Sungjong jerked to a stand, dropping to a wary position as several men approached their cell, with Minwoo leading them. He paused for a moment, not saying a word, his calculating gaze heavy on them. “Bring him to the deck.” Minwoo ordered, jerking his chin towards Sungjong. The cell was unlocked and Sungjong promptly and predictably attempted to escape, leaping at the open door and trying to elbow his way past the throng until they managed to get him under control again.

 

             Minwoo ignored the commotion behind him, addressing the other men, malicious anticipation glinting in his eyes. “You know what to do, cut me his finger.”

 

             Horror washed through him, bright and panicked and he immediately starts fighting the men who enter the cell and hold him down. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sungjong’s face blanch to a sickly colour as he resumes his struggle with new fervour, trying to get back towards them. “What do you even need it for?” Myungsoo screamed, thrashing uselessly in their hold and curling his hands into tight fists.

 

             “To convince your brother to come aboard my ship, of course.” Minwoo replied, enjoying his struggle. Sadistic asshole. “He’ll never believe me until I bring him real, solid proof.”

 

             Sungjong yelled a colourful insult at Minwoo, voice cut off abruptly as someone slapped a hand over his mouth while Myungsoo was busy struggling and losing slowly. Two men held him down, the other one was wrestling with his left hand, attempting to uncurl his pinkie. Myungsoo wanted to uncurl his middle finger. “Fucking coward,” Myungsoo spat at him, just before the pain hit.

 

             He heard himself scream faintly, the sound muffled by a blinding flash of mingled shock and pain that went through his mind. The world swam for several agonising moments, spinning and blurry and he fell back in the men’s hold, body drawn tight and shuddering. As he slowly focused he became more acutely aware of Sungjong yelling and cursing, voice pitched abnormally high, and of the pain centred in his left hand near –

 

             Myungsoo cut his thought short, not wanting to think about what was now _not there_ and breathing through his nose and pushing the pain away until Minwoo held up something that looked all too familiar and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and look away before he started hyperventilating. Someone pulled his shirt off, using a sword to cut it off which Minwoo took and wrapped it around the thing he was holding – thank god – and walked away as the other men hauled him to an upright position and shoved a rag into his hand, which he pressed against his knuckle as they dragged him up to the deck after a still swearing Sungjong, swords pressed to their backs.

 

             The sun was almost blinding after weeks in the hold and Myungsoo stumbled against his captor momentarily. The pain subsided enough for him to come back to his senses and he watched as Minwoo strode down the gangplank with a few others, leaving them on the poop deck. “Hyung!” Sungjong sounded like he was going to break into tears and if Myungsoo wasn’t so absorbed in pulling himself together he would be pretty damn amazed by the double miracle. As of now though, the only thing he could summon was – “I’m going to puke.” He gasped.

 

             His captor hurriedly turned him around and pushed him towards the side of the ship, clearly not wanting to clean up the mess he’ll make. Myungsoo draped himself on the wooden railings, almost tumbling into the sea as he dry heaved. He panted, still retching, supported upright by the railing as his gaze drifted absentmindedly along the neighbouring wharfs and stopped, fixating on a familiar figure.

 

             Woohyun was standing at a wharf some distance away, hands on his hips and tapping his foot impatiently as his crew members ran past him and aboard the _Black Lily_ , half concealed behind some other ships. He was standing far enough that Myungsoo would have missed him if it weren’t for the ridiculous black hat and cape he always wore. Are they leaving already? Shit, Minwoo definitely wouldn’t hesitate to cut Sungjong in half this time if he couldn’t find Woohyun to wager whatever deal he had in mind.

 

             “Wait, wait, I’m not done.” Myungsoo rasped out, trying not to sound too frantic as his captor made to pull him back. He pretended to dry heave a while more, keeping his eyes on the black figure and willing him to look up, _goddamnit_ , and see him. Myungsoo watched as Woohyun rubbed a hand down his face, exhaling visibly and looking distinctly moody, his aura darker than usual. The hand pulled at his collar, impatient now, and Myungsoo flung himself forward in desperation, making a ridiculously loud retching noise and praying the wind would carry his voice over to his target. “Bluuuuweeehhh!” he pretended to puke. No response. Woohyun didn’t even look up.

 

             “BLUUUUUWEEEHHH!” he almost yelled, actually choking a little as his stomach attempted to climb up his throat from the forced attempt. Woohyun finally lifted his head, his face annoyed now as he scanned the place for the noise. Myungsoo tipped himself further over the railings as he faked panting and coughing, trying to catch his eye. The captain locked gazes with him for a brief second before his captor yanked him back in, the limits to his patience frayed thin. Sungjong had paused in his systematic cursing to give him a weird look as they came back, the kind of look Myungsoo would expect him to give to a dog he wasn’t sure was rabid or not.

 

             “I can’t stand blood,” Myungsoo explained to his captor, “Especially mine.” Some of the insistent agony was pushed away by triumph when suspicion disappeared and was replaced by faint scorn. Their captors shoved them both to the middle of the poop deck, both of them moving to either side of Sungjong and swords angled towards him, leaving him relatively guard free. Myungsoo pressed the rag to his hand, forcing everything but the situation out of his head. He had no idea whether Woohyun saw him or not, or if he’ll even come at all. But he prays that the sight of Kim Myungsoo hanging halfway down the side of a ship that obviously wasn’t Sungyeol’s would be odd enough to get him to start poking his pointy nose around.

 

             Myungsoo gave his captor a cautious glance before letting bound hands fell back limply to rest on his stomach, shoulders rotating wearily as though working out tight kinks in the muscle and conveniently loosening the loops a bit more. His captor looked over at the movement and Myungsoo dropped his head immediately, chin almost touching his chest and back slouching over as though in pain and exhaustion, which wasn’t too difficult to fake. As soon as the man looked away Myungsoo set to work again, twisting his hands this way and that and holding the ropes deceivingly taut, the material of the rag obscuring the movements of his hands on the ropes.  

 

             The last of the loops gave way, merely encircling his wrists now. Carefully, as inconspicuously as he can, Myungsoo moved his hands near to his left hip where the knife was strapped, hoping that no one notices the odd positioning. His hand fumbled to hold both the rag and the ropes, almost dropping either one several times.

 

             Sungjong’s senses were stretched to full alert today, the slight movements drew his attention easily and he met Myungsoo’s eyes momentarily over their captor’s shoulders. Understanding blossomed in his eyes and he immediately started kicking up a fuss, pretending to escape and fighting with their captors, giving Myungsoo some time to hurriedly ease the knife out of the waistband of his pants where he had secured it under the cover of darkness while Sungjong was asleep, terrified that it might fall out by accident. He rested his hands on the hip now, outwardly looking as though he was supporting his injured hand. Under the rag, his left hand lay limp, stump bleeding freely from the lack of pressure while his good hand curled around the handle of the knife.

 

             Footsteps coming up the gangplank sent his heart leaping to his throat. Minwoo appeared first, followed by his crewmates, and then, finally, after months and months – Sunggyu.

 

             Myungsoo had envisioned their reunion many times before, especially during the deep nights when the longing for his brother and the regret and worry started becoming too heavy to bear. Maybe Sunggyu would be livid, punching him in the face and not talking to him for weeks, or maybe he would just look at him for a moment, and smile, and start looking at him the way he did to his crew, accepting him as part of the crew instead of his awkward kid brother, or maybe Myungsoo wouldn’t come back at all, bloated and decaying in the ocean miles and miles away from wherever Sunggyu was.

 

             It never crossed his mind that they would meet on the deck of an enemy’s ship, he bound and restrained like unruly quarry, and Sunggyu, his proud, indomitable brother herded in with a sword at his back and stripped clean of weapons like a prisoner.

 

             Sunggyu lurched to a stop at the sight of him, frozen near the entrance until the pirate at his back prodded him forward with a sword. He didn’t fight as the same pirate hastily bound his wrists with ropes, anxious to disarm the loose cannon lying so close to him.

 

             The sob that tore its way out of his throat at the sight of his brother like this was involuntary and quiet, but Sunggyu apparently heard it from the way he paled, expression a riotous mix of relief and worry and fear and lots and lots of anger. Sunggyu’s gaze drifted down to his hands, taking in the blood soaked rag and widened, looking sick. Myungsoo searched his face, seeing the fatigue and the tight lines around his eyes under the overriding emotions, dying to sprint across the deck and leap into his arms and promising to never leave his side ever again. “Hyung,” Myungsoo whimpered softly, temporarily distracted from his goal. Sunggyu jerked at the sound but didn’t respond, throat moving, plainly overwhelmed with emotions. Myungsoo could almost see him seizing onto the most familiar emotion as he whirled to face Minwoo abruptly, voice so low and dark it was a barely audible growl, “What do you want.”

 

             The satisfaction spreading across Minwoo’s face drove away his weepy feelings instantly, irritation setting in. Clearly Sunggyu felt the same way because his clenched fist twitched at his side, nostrils flaring with annoyance. “I was prepared to leave you alone, considering that you weren’t much of a competition for looting.” Minwoo started, “But then you went and killed one of the best men under my command, one that happened to be bringing me a very nice booty from a Spanish vessel and sinking half the loot he was carrying for me.” Sinking half – oh, that must be the jackass who tried to attack their ship. Sunggyu was right, they should have blasted the whole things to bits while they had the chance. The rest of the crew probably went and tattled after Sunggyu squashed their captain under the heel of his boot.

 

             Sunggyu scrunched his face, “Really? Just for that? And for the record, that bastard was asking for it.”

 

             “This is the third time you’ve lost me my loot!” Minwoo snapped, blatantly ignoring the second part, “And you lost my money at a very inconvenient time.” The man licked his lips nervously, looking like he hadn’t meant to say that at all. Hm, that probably means that he’s in debt and may or may not be in deep shit with several scary people now.

 

             Sunggyu, reaching the same conclusion as him, curled his lip in disdain, “So you’re in debt and you dragged Myungsoo here to extort money from me.” His voice rang with contempt, not bothering to conceal it the slightest.

 

             “Close, but it’s not your money I want. You don’t even have much, anyway.” Minwoo took a few steps towards Myungsoo and away from Sunggyu, “I want you to die.”

 

             “What?”

 

             The sound was sharp and disbelieving, mixing in with a voice, far deeper than Sunggyu is capable of, that came from a figure standing on the gangplank, sword drawn and bloody at his side.

 

             Woohyun’s eyes swept over the entire scene, taking in everything in seconds. Their guards moved quickly, holding him and Sungjong forward like shields while their swords came up to press against their throats. “What’s going on?” Woohyun stepped forward, freezing when the swords dug into his skin. Without removing his gaze from the blade, Woohyun asked slowly, “Why are you here, Myungsoo? Where’s Sungyeol?”

 

             “Sungyeol is probably halfway to Africa by now,” Minwoo answered as Myungsoo opened his mouth to answer and closed it, scowling. “One chest of gold – that’s all it took to convince him to alter his course a bit.”

 

             Woohyun glared at him, putting the pieces together quickly. Close to him something that looked a lot like relief washed over Sunggyu’s face fleetingly, but not quickly enough. Minwoo caught it, eyes widening in realization and mirth, “Wait, don’t tell me _you_ were suspecting Woohyun?”

 

             “Of course not!” Sunggyu’s voice rose, a bit too loudly. Minwoo scoffed, seeing through the lie. Myungsoo watched as a flicker passed through Woohyun’s face, his grip on his sword tightening and the dark aura from earlier grow again. But when he spoke his voice was even, “You haven’t told us why you want Sunggyu’s head.”

 

             “I don’t want his head either,” Minwoo sounded offended, “It’s not very useful to me. I want you,” Minwoo turned to Sunggyu, “To hang yourself from the highest mast of your ship.”

 

             Myungsoo sucked in a breath, tensing in his captor’s hold. Sunggyu stared at Minwoo, uncomprehending. “It’s the same logic, really,” Minwoo was saying, “People see you hang, they’ll talk, and it’ll eventually spread to the rest of the seven seas. You’re a threat to other pirates so me getting rid of you – and humiliating too – is basically a huge favour to them.”

 

             “Basically making them happy enough to forget your screw-ups and debts.” Myungsoo finished disgustedly, hating the man even more than before. Minwoo nodded happily, unapologetic.

            

             “And if I don’t?” Sunggyu asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

 

             Minwoo shrugged, “They die.”

 

             “Don’t do this, Sunggyu,” Woohyun spoke up, low and intense, addressing Sunggyu for the first time since he came aboard. Myungsoo didn’t have time to dwell on the oddness of it, busy with untangling the rest of the ropes around his wrists while everyone was distracted. The last thing he wants is to get stuck in the damn thing while yanking the knife out. The urgency of the situation clenched in his chest, his heart thudded frantically, all it took is one glance, one twitchy fidget, and he’ll lose the only chance he has.

 

             “Please don’t make me choose now.” Sunggyu winced immediately, mouth snapping close too late. Woohyun flinched, taking an unconscious step back towards the gangplank. “I mean,” Sunggyu hurried to explain, uncharacteristically frantic, “You know why I’m doing this.” It sounded lame, even to Myungsoo, and from the look on Sunggyu’s face he clearly thought so too.

 

             “Sungjong isn’t even your responsibility!” Woohyun argued, stubbornly persisting.

 

             “I’ll just do it for the both of us then, since you’re not going to do it!” Sunggyu stopped short again, looking furious with himself, even more so when he spared a quick glance at Woohyun’s walled off expression. “I think I’ll just shut up now.” He muttered under his breath before turning to Minwoo, determinedly ignoring both Myungsoo and Woohyun. “Fine, I’ll do it, you asshole, but let them go first.”

 

             “Do you think I’m stupid?” Minwoo scoffed, “No, you go and hang yourself now – I’ll get a man to watch you do it – and once he comes back to me I’ll let them go. Woohyun’s going to be here anyway,” Minwoo cut off Sunggyu’s protest, “So you know I’m not going to be able to go back on my word. Not that you’ll be around to see it.” He laughed, oblivious to the tension in everyone else on the deck.

 

             Woohyun’s sword shook in his grip, fist clenched so tightly the white of his knuckle was visible even to Myungsoo. Sunggyu glared at Minwoo hatefully for a few seconds more but eventually jerked his head in a nod wordlessly, not out of fear or hesitation, but out of barely suppressed rage. Myungsoo’s heart clenched painfully, knowing that Sunggyu had already made his decision from the second he saw Myungsoo, before Minwoo could even begin to force Sunggyu’s hand. No one dominated Kim Sunggyu more than his own soul. Still refusing to look at either of them, his brother turned to walk decisively towards the gangplank, movements stiff from the force of his will and self-control to not look back, to not spill the words he didn’t want to be forced to say.

 

             “Sunggyu.” The wall fractured, breaking up more than Myungsoo had ever seen before. Woohyun gaze burned into Sunggyu’s turned back, the command coming out like a plea. Woohyun was still rooted to the spot, staring beseechingly at the other without making a movement towards him, already knowing the futility of it. The captain’s face was ashy, fear and despair and hopelessness seeping out of the fissures and the emotions looking so foreign on his face he hardly seemed like the man Myungsoo knew.

 

             Myungsoo couldn’t wait anymore, he had to do it _now_. “Hyung,” Myungsoo called out, his voice cracking without his control, in a way he knew his brother wouldn’t resist. Sunggyu half-turned instinctively, and, eager to see Kim Sunggyu’s breakdown, Minwoo and his crew leaned forward, even the guard at his back, entirely focused on the rare display of grief on the captain’s face – not for himself, Sunggyu never cared for that, but because he knew he would be leaving his world in the two people on the deck behind him – and Myungsoo’s good hand flew up, rag fluttering to the ground with the ropes, knife sinking deep into his guard’s wrist before anyone could react, scraping across bone and pushing the arm holding the sword away from his throat.

 

             The guard howled, sword falling from numb fingers instantly. Myungsoo grabbed the sword with his free hand clumsily, the blade slicing into his palm with the pressure and pressing painfully into the stump. He spun around, faster than he had ever acted in his life, Sungyeol’s knife yanked out of the wrist to stab at the side of the guard’s neck, blade buried up to the hilt. To his side, he heard an accompanying yell as Sungjong responded, making use of his guard’s split second distraction to slam his head back, crunching bone, followed by a much more sickening crack as he seized the hand at his throat and twisted it a full turn around the wrist before seizing the sword that fell to the floor. Myungsoo turned back, facing the trio, his attention fixed on his brother’s bewildered face as he fully turned around at the sudden commotion.

 

             His hand tightened around the handle of the knife. This was it, it was time. He knew it now. One good throw, just like how Sunggyu had taught him.

 

             “Hyung!” Myungsoo yelled into the chasm yawning between them, hurling the knife with all his strength, sending it plunging towards the rope bindings around his brother’s wrists, as straight and true as an arrow.

 

             The knife struck the bindings dead-center…and bounced off, splashing into the sea.

 

             There was an awkward pause.

 

             Woohyun gave him a tired look, “Myungsoo, you stupid fuck.”

 

             Oh. Well. Myungsoo hurriedly switched his attention to Minwoo who was gaping at him, looking half angry and half baffled at the abrupt turn of the tide. “Let’s duel.” He offered, without preamble. “Don’t try and stop me!” Myungsoo snapped as a series of protest rose up, “It’s the least I can do to him for putting us through all this crap.” He could almost imagine Sungjong rolling his eyes practically to the back of his head as Myungsoo stepped towards Minwoo, switching the sword over to his good hand.

 

             “Woohyun, can you please put that sword of yours through Minwoo before my brother does something stupid?”

 

             “Just let me try!” Myungsoo yelled, gesticulating wildly for Minwoo to come closer before he lost his prey to someone else. “Let’s duel, like pirates.” Myungsoo bargained, ignoring Sunggyu’s exasperated “For fuck’s sake, someone stop him.” at his back. “If you win then you can leave, if you lose then your ass gets handed to them.”

 

             “I can just get my men to cut you all down right this second.” Minwoo hissed, resisting uselessly. “Don’t forget that you’re still on my ship.”

 

             “Yeah, but Woohyun has a sword and he’s been using actual people as target practice for years.” Myungsoo countered, “And you forgot about Sungjong.”

 

             Minwoo made a face, but he wasn’t going to ignore a freely given opportunity like this. “Fine, but if I win, then you’re dead and I get to leave in one piece.”

 

             Myungsoo shrugged, more carelessly than he felt. “Sure, but you know I can’t guarantee the second part.” Tired of the discussion, especially when he had the upper hand for once, Myungsoo moved to the center of the poop deck, using his borrowed sword to wave Minwoo closer and breaking every etiquette in the book about sword-handling. Minwoo followed, eyes narrowing, settling into a wary stance as he slowly approached Myungsoo. They faced each other for several breaths, eyeing each other cautiously, and Minwoo attacked.

 

             He leapt at Myungsoo, swinging a wide arc and aiming to slice his throat open. Myungsoo twisted away, expecting the move from the shift of Minwoo’s eyes and the slight tilt towards his attacking side. His own sword swung out, taking advantage of his uncovered side and grazing his ribs. Shit, not deep enough.

 

             Minwoo fell back quickly, barely fazed, sword coming up from below to clash with Myungsoo’s. They stayed in the stalemate position for a few moments more before Myungsoo moved back slightly, enough to shift his sword away and letting Minwoo’s swing up wildly into the air. His sword followed the original path, this time making a deep gash into Minwoo’s leg, just above the knee where the flesh is thinnest and striking bone hard. Minwoo wobbled, losing his balance slightly as his leg gave way involuntarily.

 

             Myungsoo sprang forward, body crouched low, sword jerked back from its path to cut into the hamstrings covering the back of the same knee. Minwoo’s sword came down on him, hitting his collarbone dully and just missing his neck if Myungsoo hadn’t lunged forward at the last moment, trying to force the sword past the entire back of the knee. Fire burned down his arm, a bright agony pulsing at his shoulder. He jumped back, his left arm numb and hand clumsy with the missing finger, barely able to support the sword. Minwoo picked up on it, because he straightened up, eyes lighting up with renewed vigour and beginning to move towards Myungsoo.

 

             In a sudden, stomach-dropping epiphany Myungsoo realises that he isn’t going to win this swordfight.

 

             He was never that good to begin with, even with all the training from Sungyeol and his brother, and with one arm near useless like this, he isn’t going to stand a chance against a seasoned pirate captain. He’s not going to win the swordfight, but he still has a chance to win this _fight_.

 

             Minwoo attacks, sword slashing forward. Myungsoo pulled back just enough to avoid the blow, and before he could stop to question his dubious next move, Myungsoo threw his sword as hard as he could at Minwoo’s head.

 

             The pirate captain jerked back in surprise, too caught off guard by the ridiculous move to dodge properly. The handle of the sword hit his forehead with a very satisfying sound and Myungsoo lunged, grabbing hold of the blade of Minwoo’s sword and using his momentum to drive it forwards towards Minwoo’s face, sending them both tumbling down onto the deck. Myungsoo gritted his teeth, bearing all his weight down onto the sword and trying to force down the last inch that will end this duel. Blood spilled freely over the blade and onto Minwoo, the metal sending waves of agony every time it shifted and grated against the bones in his hands.

 

             His arms shook with more than just strain, desperately trying to force himself to commit his first kill. The tip of a sword appeared, pressing into the hollow of Minwoo’s throat. They both froze, Minwoo’s eyes widening as he registered the person standing above them. “You’ve been on your back for more than ten seconds.” Woohyun coolly informed, “You lose, you motherfucker.”

 

             The sword tip dug in warningly, “You can let go now, Myungsoo.” Woohyun said a bit gruffly, gentler than his usual tone. “You’ve done enough, save some for the rest of us.” Myungsoo stared down at Minwoo, his fingers unclenching slowly, one by one, until the blade fell away and clattered to the side. He got off Minwoo, watching dazedly as Woohyun narrowed his eyes and pushed the sword down, familiarly sadistic smile spreading across his face as Minwoo gasped and twitched from his spot on the ground, not daring to move too much and accidentally spear himself.

 

             Myungsoo turned away as Woohyun started to outline in frighteningly vivid detail exactly what he would do to Minwoo, and as he did his gaze fell upon his guard lying motionless on the floor. The blood was still spreading, wetting his boots as he stepped towards the man, footsteps shaky and uncertain. It wasn’t even that big of a knife, he was probably still alive when Myungsoo started duelling Minwoo. He was so busy focusing on his first kill that he didn’t even realise he already did, without even realising, with the man who was bleeding out alone on the decks of his own ship, unnoticed by everyone, even until his last moment.

 

             A figure moved in front of him, blocking the view of the man. Lean arms wrapped around him, pushing his face down onto a shoulder only slightly higher than his. “That’s enough,” Sungjong said quietly into his ear, “You’ve done enough.”

 

             Something about the tone, or the words, or the strength with which he held Myungsoo, told him that he understood more than even Myungsoo could figure out. Myungsoo lifted up his shredded hands, putting them around Sungjong and falling into the thrum of formless words between them, and finally let it fall. 


	11. Final step

“I’m going to shove my sword so far down your throat you’ll never be able to walk straight again. Let’s see you run with that sticking out of your ass.”

 

             “Okay, hyung.”

 

             “I mean it, just wait till I get my hands on my sword.”

 

             “Okay, hyung.” A pause, “Hyung, I can’t really breathe.”

 

             “Shut up, I’m going to make a ship model out of your ribcage. Brat.”

 

             “I missed you too, hyung. I’m sorry. And I love you too.”

 

__________________________

 

             “You’re so goddamn dumb that it’s almost a wonder of nature.”

 

             “Are you okay? Hurt anywhere? You hit your head pretty hard.”

 

             “See, this is exactly what I mean – no, don’t touch me, you retard. Go do something about that finger.”

            

__________________________

 

             “I need to get the knife first.”

 

             “What do you even need that for, I’ll buy you a new one.”

 

             “Or you can pick from Minwoo’s stash. Fucker probably has a lot from all the looting he did, don’t you.” A kick, followed by a cry of protest.

 

             “I don’t want those, I want that knife.”

 

             “What are you doing – oh god, okay fine. Minwoo, if you don’t bring it up you can stay down there with the knife.”

 

__________________________

 

             “Don’t touch me and get lost.”

 

             “You used to like that though.”

 

             “Are you seriously – god, you’re an asshole. Fuck you.”

 

             Silence, then in an undertone, “…I’d like that.”

 

             “Okay, I’m sorry. Really.”

 

__________________________

 

 

             Sunggyu made a face, “Where the hell is your shirt?”

 

             Myungsoo looked down at his bare chest, the loss of his favourite black shirt the least of his problems so far. Dongwoo helpfully thrust an amount of black material towards him, “Here, it’s torn but – oops, sorry,” The pinkie finger fell to the floor with a clatter, sending nausea leaping up into his throat. Dongwoo hurriedly picked it up and tucked it into his shirt pocket like it was a cigar, hiding it from view, “I can try and help to sew it back onto your hand later, but I don’t know if it’ll work and you get the finger or you’ll get an infection and lose the hand.”

 

             “We’ll see,” Myungsoo answered, voice a bit high. He pulled the shirt on, tucking the torn ends into his pants as best as he could, leaving it half-opened. “God, you look obscene.” Sungjong remarked kindly.

 

             “Join the club,” Woohyun muttered bitterly at the side as he joined them, tugging at his own shirt and drawing a slightly abashed glance from Sunggyu. Myungsoo averted his eyes, not really eager to know what (or who) went down between them. He can just get the watered down version from Dongwoo later, preferably when he’s sewing the finger back on. Nothing like a fairytale love story to distract ourselves, peppered with lots of violence and sex, mostly together.

 

             Sungjong picked up on the tension easily enough, because he stepped around them and moved away, more than eager to leave them once and for all. “Well, can I go now? Nice babysitting you, Myungsoo, thanks for not dying. No thanks to you Woohyun, for sending me on this trip.”

 

             “Hey, Lee Sungjong.” Woohyun called after him. Sungjong turned his head, scowling a bit. The pirate captain seemed to hesitate for a brief second, too short for Myungsoo to be sure, before he gave a short, sharp nod to Sungjong. “Good job.”

 

             An odd look crossed Sungjong’s face, and the two pirates held that gaze for a few seconds more before Sungjong’s lips twisted up in his characteristically cynical smile. He tipped his head in acknowledgement and turned around to leave. Myungsoo stared after his retreating back, not quite sure if he should follow or not. The decision was made for him less than a second later, when he caught a stubborn Sunggyu sending a volley of significant looks to a determinedly oblivious Woohyun who was refusing to meet his eyes and staring rather blankly at a seagull perched near them.

 

             “I’ll go stitch my finger on,” he mumbled at no one in particular, walking away without waiting for a response. Dongwoo followed him, glad of an excuse to escape the thickening awkwardness too. Sunggyu broke out of his focus momentarily to lift concerned eyes to Myungsoo, which he quickly dispelled. “And I need to clear up some things with Sungjong too, so I’ll see you later.”

 

             Myungsoo hurried after the vanishing pirate, Dongwoo trailing at his heels. “Sungjong!” he called. Said pirate stopped and turned around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “What now?” he snapped, not bothering to cover up his impatience. Myungsoo stared at him patiently, waiting for the tell-tale crack to appear.

 

             It did. His lips tightened but he rolled his eyes theatrically, “Well, if it’s nothing – ”

 

             “Come with me,” Myungsoo interrupted, inwardly savouring the way Sungjong’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly. Behind him, Dongwoo stifled a choked sound of delight. Abruptly embarrassed, he continued, “Dongwoo’s going to stitch my finger back on so maybe you can come along too.”

 

             “Why would I need to be there for that?” Sungjong scoffed, pulling himself together quickly.

 

             Then, Myungsoo bent his brightest smile upon the unsuspecting younger, “To hold my hand, of course.” His heart pounding in his throat, Myungsoo took a cautious step towards Sungjong, who tensed up but didn’t move. He held out his left hand, torn and smeared all over with blood and nothing like the hands he had so many months ago. Myungsoo breathed out and smiled again, a lot smaller, a lot dimmer, but a lot more like Kim Myungsoo, “Won’t you come with me?”

 

__________________________

 

             “Won’t you come to me?”

 

             “You know I always will.”

 

             “That’s not what I meant.”

 

             “Then what do you mean?”

 

 

 

 

 

              “I mean that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry and I – ” The words stop abruptly, stuck in a throat. The throat moved up and down, swallowing. The owner moved closer cautiously, lifting a tentative hand to rest lightly against the other’s cheek. A short pause, a slight intake of breath. Fingers curved around the cheek, brushing against a taut neck. “Don’t go yet.”

 

 

 

 

 

             “I’m coming too.”

 

 

__________________________

 

             _17 years later_

 

             “Fire!” Someone yelled, the voice almost drowned out completely in the cacophony of clashing swords and shouting. The floor beneath his feet shook as a cannon fired at the neighbouring ship, _their_ ship. A few seconds later the floor bucked wildly again, tossed by the waves from an approaching storm. Today couldn’t have been a worse day to wage a battle, what with the dark clouds gathering overhead ominously fast, but Myungsoo didn’t need a lot of time, and it was about time that he caught his elusive prey. Regaining his balance, Myungsoo stepped quickly towards the pirate captain who continued to fight on, oblivious of the threat at his back.

 

             Myungsoo leapt back as the captain spun around and sent his sword swinging an arc towards his belly, so quickly that he would have missed it if he wasn’t half-running on instinct. His foot faltered beneath him for a moment – just a moment – as his feet got caught in the mess of ropes. No time for hesitation here, not unless you were planning on losing.

 

             The expression on the captain’s face shifted rapidly from annoyance to shock to recognition and then to amused surprise, all in the space of several seconds. Myungsoo bit back a smile and the surge of emotions, tilting his head by way of greeting, “Good to see you again, captain.”

 

             The pirate captain grinned unrestrainedly, wide wide wide, lips stretching in his characteristic Cheshire grin. Overhead, a silent flash of lightning reflected in the eyes and caught in the smile. “It’s nice to meet _you_ , captain.”

 

             Myungsoo grinned back and lifted his sword towards the other, an invitation and a challenge. A half-eyebrow rose, but an approving smile brushed his lips before he raised his sword too, and that was all it needed. Their swords flashed out in the space between them as they danced around each other, ducking to avoid the occasional stray sword from around them.

 

             “So,” Sungyeol drew the word out, “Captain Kim Myungsoo. Sunggyu would have been proud. He is, isn’t he?” Sungyeol snorted to himself, “Never thought that I would live to see this day come.” The tone was light, playful and teasing, but Myungsoo heard the echoes beneath it, and he knew Sungyeol did too.

 

             Myungsoo thought of his brother, standing next to Woohyun on the dock, their arms brushing and fingers unconsciously reaching like always, and the look he gave Myungsoo as the ship departed – bemused and proud and slightly worried – a look that had dimmed but never faded. “Yeah, he is.” Myungsoo replied softly. “You say that like you were living to die.” He joked, only half-meaning it, tactfully ignoring the echo.

 

             Sungyeol simply grinned again, unrepentant and careless.

 

             “I’m surprised you haven’t run screaming off a cliff yet.” Myungsoo continued, keeping his tone light and dodging a slash before retaliating.

 

             “I’m surprised _you_ held on for this long,” Sungyeol shot back, frowning when the attack drew blood, the effect somewhat lost by the faint smile still lingering on his lips. “How long have you been captain anyway? How are you not dead yet? Didn’t you die? I thought you would have died fifty times over by now.” The words fell off his lips in rapid succession, voice barely wavering as though they weren’t in the middle of a fight.

 

             Myungsoo stepped aside from a blow, aiming a kick at the other who skirted aside and swiped at the offending leg. “Few years, give or take. Also,” he pulled back, catching his breath, “I learnt from the best.” He cast a cursory glance around the deck, pulling Sungyeol’s gaze along. His crew was slowly winning, Sungyeol’s side bogged down by the sheer numbers of their opponents. Not that it was difficult to outnumber them, Sungyeol was notorious for travelling light and he obviously wasn’t expecting a fight when he set off on this voyage.

 

             “You’re losing,” Myungsoo stated, even though it was obvious. “Surrender and I’ll spare the rest of your crew.”

 

             “And if I don’t?” Sungyeol pushed, equally pointlessly.

 

             Myungsoo didn’t hesitate, seeing it for what it is. “They die.” He answered, meeting Sungyeol’s gaze steadily, forcing himself not to blink. The crooked smirk he got in return told him that the other had seen right through him, but it didn’t matter because they had both seen the end in each other’s eyes.

 

             Someone joined his side and Sungyeol shifted his gaze over to the newcomer. The gaze lingered, appraising and piercing. Whatever he saw there satisfied him, because he nodded in greeting, “Hello, Sungjong.” The pirate nodded back silently.

 

             Unfazed by the lukewarm response, Sungyeol turned back to Myungsoo, “Spare my crew, but let’s end this here. We’ll do one last duel, that’s what you want right?”

 

             Instead of answering, Myungsoo pulled a knife out, a knife with a hilt yellowed with age and a slightly rusted blade with just the faintest trace of blood in the crack where the blade met the hilt, holding it out to Sungyeol. The other man squinted at it for a few moments before recognition clicked, along with quickly suppressed affection. “What happened to your finger?” Sungyeol asked instead, not taking it.

 

             “Minwoo.” He replied simply. Myungsoo motioned to him to take the knife, “And this is the answer to your third question. Take it. It’s yours anyway.”

 

             Sungyeol shook his head slowly, staring at the hand holding out the knife. “No, I gave it to you, remember?” Myungsoo did remember, he remembers every word that Sungyeol had breathed to him on that beach almost two entire decades ago and he knows exactly what he means now. His fingers tightened spasmodically around the hilt before dropping his hand. Sungyeol’s eyes searched for his as he moved into position to duel again, “Keep it.” Sungyeol smiled, that same careless, amused smile, touched with irony this time, and maybe even a bit of regret, “Use it well.”

 

 __________________________

 

             “Don’t I just have to duel the captain?”

 

             “Yes.”

 

             “But I – oh. Co-captains huh?”                                                     

 

             “Just a temporary alliance actually.”

            

             “Whatever. Either way I’m…” A throat clears, “That’s good to know.”

 

 

            

             “Maybe we should reschedule the duel.”

            

             “For what? We won’t take long. I’ll be long gone before the storm ends.”

            

             “You seem to have a lot of confidence.”

 

             “I do.”

 

__________________________

 

             Myungsoo thinks that maybe all of them had seen this coming. He from the minute Sungyeol opened his mouth, from the words he said with his eyes and mouth and hands, from when they left him on the beach with his heart in Myungsoo’s pocket, from the look in Sungyeol’s eyes when he pushed his sword down on Myungsoo, goading Sungjong’s sword at his back; Sungjong from his razor sharp intuition, where the suspicion had probably lingered for a while now, unspoken and unacknowledged and perhaps, unwanted as well; and Sungyeol because he had probably been planning – and waiting – for this all along.

 

             If it had been someone else, it could have turned out differently. Would have, but because it was Sungyeol, Sungyeol who watched and saw and pushed and waited like a player in a chess game, who let his life fall to pieces without a care but picked it up along with theirs and played them precisely into the ending that he wanted –

 

             Because it was Sungyeol, it couldn’t have ended any way other than exactly what he wanted.

 

             Myungsoo understands – sort of, because no one ever really got Sungyeol. He just wishes he didn’t have to. He knows now why Sungyeol hadn’t leapt off earlier. Sungyeol must have been waiting for this, for Myungsoo to be his salvation before he deemed himself worthy to be Sungjong’s.

 

             None of them really got a say in this, and Myungsoo thinks that maybe that’s Sungyeol’s way of being selfish one last time, but he knows too that it was his choice, and maybe Sungyeol had known that Sungjong would never have been able to do it himself, that he needed someone to hold his hands and push the sword into Sungyeol’s belly, to hold his hands as the sword twisted cruelly even when Sungyeol’s lips tightened and a small sound of pain escaped but his gaze never left Sungjong’s.

 

             It’s senseless, it’s unfair, but it couldn’t have ended any way other than Sungyeol forcing himself onto Sungjong’s sword.

 

             Sungjong isn’t Myungsoo, he may have been before, but that person was long dead and nothing other than the shock of Sungyeol’s sacrifice could have got rid of the bitter hate and resentment that had festered in him for years and would have for many years to come. Maybe now he could remember Sungyeol without darkness in his heart. And perhaps it is better this way, for Sungyeol to choose to die at his own time by Sungjong’s sword – instead of someone else’s or himself.

 

             Myungsoo understands it all, but it doesn’t make him cry any less.

 

             He almost lit a pyre for Sungyeol on the spot before remembering that it could end up as a pyre for all of them, so he settles for fighting to bring Sungyeol’s body back to their ship so that they can do something for him when they reach a port even though everyone else wanted to throw him overboard along with whatever diseases his corpse might end up harbouring, but Myungsoo couldn’t stand to do that, not to Sungyeol.

 

             He could even picture Sungyeol now, rolling his eyes and making a joke about him being a sentimental ninny, but the only picture in his mind’s eye was the image of the small smile on Sungyeol’s face as he watched Sungjong’s shocked eyes watch him, the smile that widened in amusement when they hovered over him as he lay on the ground with blood bubbling out of his mouth, the smile that stretched into his Cheshire grin as he turned a hazy gaze on them in turn – like he knew something that they didn’t, like he was holding the punch line to a joke above their heads teasingly – the smile that held so many of his faces and would stay forever with them.

 

             It was the kind of smile that was meant to shine bright enough to distract people from his gaze.

 

             Myungsoo didn’t miss the affection and pride and relief in the eyes when it rested on him, nor the almost suffocating look of repentance and apology, faintly lit by hope as it held Sungjong’s.

 

             Sungyeol’s voice was the sound that echoed back to you when he called out from the edge that he stood at, and some of them were lost and would go unheard forever, but what reached you had a way of reverberating inside your head, that would haunt you as vividly as if it were the day before every time you reached for it.

 

             The pressure on his hand increased, painfully tight, and he squeezed back. “Could have let me do it on my own, asshole,” Sungjong muttered without heat, voice choked as he inconspicuously sniffed. Myungsoo glanced at him, and confirmed what he guessed. The wall had finally broke, the same understanding hovered uncertainly next to the beginnings of forgiveness. Without a word, Myungsoo wrapped his arms around Sungjong, tightly enough that casual onlookers would think that the younger was holding him instead of the other way round.

 

             Not everyone gets a happy ending because happy endings don’t exist.  But being happy with the ending that you chose is a whole different matter. Each of them have chosen their paths, and some, their endings.

 

             Sungyeol didn’t end up the way Myungsoo hoped for. Nor did Myungsoo end up the way Sunggyu wanted. But they got to choose, and maybe that’s enough.

 

 

 

             _(Echoes)_

_From _ _ _ to the end_

            

             Don’t you remember me?

             I’ll make you remember.

 

             It seems like you’re okay. Better, even.

             I’m not sure that I’m okay with that.

             Because I’m not.

             Still

 

             I could. I would have. We’re all doomed anyway, all of us.

             So it doesn’t really matter which way we go.

             But I don’t want to, not really, not with you.

             You’re just like him, you know.

 

             No, not you.

             I can’t do this. Not a second time.

 

             Maybe this is for the better. It hurts less this way. For me, and hopefully for you.

             That’s a lie.

 

             I can’t do this.

What’s ‘this’?

 

             Here, it’s battered and broken and worthless but it’s mine and it’s all I have.

             (I know I’m selfish)

             You’ll understand, right? Me and…me

 

 

 

             How are we still here? You, and I, and you too.

             I’m sorry. I’m glad. I had been – I am selfish.

 

             Thank you.

             That was for me just as much as it was for you.

 

             I suppose I saved you, but I was really saving myself.

             So. This is for you. Better late than never right?

             I hope this is enough, I really do.

 

             You’re okay. That’s good.

             I know I am now.

             I hope you will be too.

            

 

             Take care of yourselves.

 

I’ll see you again.

            

             _(Echoes of a laugh)_

 

You can’t ever forget me, you know?

You just can’t.

 


End file.
